THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


AUTUMN  LEAVES; 


ODE,  ELEGIES,   NARRATIVES,   HYMNS, 


OTHER    PIECES    IN    VERSE    FROM    THE 
WRITER'S  LATER  MANUSCRIPTS. 


BY  LEWIS  G.  PRAY. 


,  not  JJ 


BOSTON: 

PRESS    OF   JOHN   WILSON   AND    SON. 
1873. 


TS 


TO 
THE  AUTHOR'S   ASSOCIATES, 

WHETHER    IN    PRIMARY    OR    SUNDAY    SCHOOLS,    IN    BUSINESS 
RELATIONS    OR    BENEVOLENT    ASSOCIATIONS, 

WHETHER   AT   HOME    OR    IN    THE    CHURCH, 

THIS   VOLUME 
IS     RESPECTFULLY     DEDICATED. 


759384 


PREFATORY. 


IN  1862  the  author  of  the  present  volume  made 
a  selection  from  his  earlier  manuscripts,  passed 
them  through  the  press,  and  made  distribution 
of  them  among  his  kindred  and  friends.  It  had 
for  its  title,  "The  Sylphid's  School,  and  other 
Pieces  in  Verse."  Since  then,  his  pen  has  not 
been  idle ;  and  as  his  former  offering  seemed  to 
be  kindly  received,  he  has  not  thought  it  unwise 
or  too  egotistical  to  use  some  of  his  more  recent 
leisure  hours  and  solitary  days  in  gleaning  from 
his  later  manuscripts  enough  for  another  volume 
for  a  like  destination  and  distribution. 

The  pieces  in  the  present  volume  have  been 
written  through  these  later  years  to  meet  the 
calls  of  passing  occasions,  to  give  expression  to 
feelings  that  would  not  be  repressed,  or  to 


vi  PREFATORY. 

embody  ideas  and  incidents  in  forms  the  better  to 
instruct  or  please. 

Some  of  them  have  found  publication  in  the 
periodicals  of  the  day  ;  some  were  prepared  by 
request  and  used  on  public  occasions  ;  but  for  the 
most  part  their  circulation  has  been  restricted  to 
the  indulgent  and  partial  eye  of  kindred  and  home 
friends,  and  appear  now  for  the  first  time  in 
print. 

The  hope  is  entertained  that  all  to  whom  this 
memento  shall  be  sent,  will  give  to  it  a  kindly 
reception,  when  assured  that  it  is  the  offering  of 
one  who  has  highly  appreciated,  through  a  long 
and  happy  life,  their  warm  and  constant  friend- 
ships, their  cordial  co-operation  in  former  con- 
genial labors,  and  who  continues  to  appreciate 
their  many  works  of  mental  activity  and  judicious 
philanthropy. 


CONTENTS. 


Page 

Ode  for  New  Year's  Eve,  Dec.  31,  1867.    Mount  Pleasant  Con- 
gregational Society 1 

Christinas  Carols  — 

I.    See!  oh  see!  the  morn  is  breaking 12 

II.     A  gem !  a  gem !  it  glistens  bright 14 

III.  Youthful  mysteries  disappear 16 

IV.  Jesus  the  Saviour,  born  to-day 18 

V.    Tell  me,  niece,  and  tell  me  true 21 

New  Year 23 

Spring 25 

Hope 27 

The  Little  Cup  of  Tears ;  a  German  Legend 28 

The  Restless  Little  Boy,  and  what  befell  him 30 

Prince  Halewyn ;  a  Legend 34 

The  Fear  of  Death;  a  Persian  Tale 40 

Faith  Illustrated ;  Cecil's  Story  of  the  Beads 42 

Faith  and  Works;  a  Legendary  Tale 45 

Design  in  Creation ;  founded  on  Fact.    Cecil 47 


primal 


I.  The  Child 53 

II.  The  Youth 53 

III.  The  Man 54 

IV.  Matrimony 54 

V.  Home 54 

VI.  Commerce 55 

VII.  The  Teacher  .  56 


vili  CONTENTS. 

Page 

VIII.  Religion 56 

IX.  The  Bible '.     •     •  57 

X.  Jesus,  the  Saviour 58 

XL  Old  Age 59 

XII.  Immortality 59 

XIII.  The  Spiritual . 60 


Grace,  Daughter  of  C.  F.  B.,  died  Feb.,  1870 63 

Caroline  C.,  Daughter  of  J.  W.,  Esq.,  Detroit,  1865  ....  65 

Lucy  Jane,  Daughter  of  J.  F.  P.,  Esq.,  April,  1866 67 

Mrs.  Julia  P.,  Wife  of  A.  H.  W.,  set.  20,  died  1869 69 

Mrs.  Louisa  B.,  Wife  of  F.  H.  B.,  M.D.,  died  1865  ....  72 

Oliver  H.  S.,  died,  at.  22,  at  the  Insane  Hospital,  1864  ...  74 

Lines  on  the  Death  of  R.  W.  B.,  Esq.,  of  Boston,  a  valued  Friend  77 

Mrs.  Sarah  Augusta,  Wife  of  E.  W.,  Esq.,  died  suddenly,  1867  79 

Mrs.  Mary  S.,  Widow  of  the  late  E.  H.,  Esq.,  died  1865  ...  81 

Rev.  Samuel  Barrett,  D.D.,  died  June  24,  1866 83 

Mrs.  Ann  Hathaway,  Wife  of  William  Rice,  Esq.,  1870  ...  87 
Rev.  Charles  J.  Bowen,  Pastor  of  the  Mount  Pleasant  Church, 

Boston,  died  April  11,  1870 89 

Memorial  Lines  on  the  Decease  of  Mary  Ann,  Wife  of  Theodore 

H.  Bell,  Esq.,  Sept.  14,  1872 92 


P?mnns  for  tfa 

HYMNS. 

I.    The  Child's  Morning  Prayer 97 

II.    The  Child's  Evening  Prayer 99 

III.    Imitated  from  an  Ancient  English  Poet 100 

I  IV.    Gratitude 102 

V.     Springtime  of  Youth 103 

VI.    Love  to  God  and  Love  to  Man 105 

VII.     Words  and  Life  of  Jesus 107 

VIII.    The  Dominion  of  Truth 109 

IX.    Filial  Affection .111 


CONTENTS.  ix 

HYMNS.  Page 

X.     The  Balm  in  Gilead 112 

XI.     Temperance 114 

XII.    Invitation  to  the  Saviour 116 

XIII.  Christmas 118 

XIV.  Song  of  Praise 120 

XV.    Trust  in  the  Heavenly  Friend 122 


anto  Special. 

[FIRST  LINES.] 

I.    Jehovah  on  the  guilty  frowned 127 

II.    Our  Father,  Helper,  Guide,  and  Friend 129 

III.  Raise  now  an  anthem  high 131 

IV.  Pastor,  parted  long  from  friends 133 

V.     In  ancient  times  the  Spirit  came 136 

VI.    O  Father!  called  this  bond  to  break 138 

VII.    How  beautiful  on  mountain  height 141 

Hymn,  National  and  Patriotic,  1862 143 


(£&angel(cal  antu  Eeltgfous. 

I.  How  beautiful  the  herald  stands 147 

II.  Blest  Mount !  from  whence  the  Saviour  spoke  ....  149 

III.  Yea,  blessed  are  the  poor 151 

IV.  Blest  are  the  sons  of  peace 153 

V.  The  LoroTmakes  known  his  will . 154 

VI.  0  Israel,  hear!  thy  God  is  One 156 

VII.  How  sweet,  how  gentle,  were  the  tones 158 

VIII.  The  world,  from  light  divine  shut  out 160 

IX.  Oh,  what  a  sacrifice  was  made 162 

X.  Jesus,  to  his  followers  speaking 163 

XI.  He  prayed !  with  eyes  uplifted,  prayed 164 

XII.  "The  Comforter  shall  come, ".he  said 166 

XIII.  The  Cross,  the  symbol  once  of  crime 167 

XIV.  Like  to  the  sun  that  sheds  its  beams     .                           .  169 


X  CONTENTS. 

HYMNS.  [FIRST  LINKS.]                                        Page 

XV.    Enclosed  at  birth  in  mortal  shrine 171 

XVI.    And  must  it  be  ?  and  must  we  die 173 

XVII.    Mighty  Lord!  oh  heed  us,  lead  us 175 

XVIII.    When  all  that's  mortal  dieth 176 


I9eb0tf0nal  anto  Spiritual. 

I.  On  entering  the  Church 179 

II.  Confession  and  Supplication 181 

III.  Penitence 182 

IV.  Prayer 183 

V.  To  whom  shall  we  go,  Lord,  if  not  unto  thee  ....  185 

VI.  The  Nativity 187 

VII.  For  Christmas 188 

VIII.  For  Ordination  or  Installation 190 

IX.  Immortality 192 

X.  Silver  Wedding  Hymn;  T.  H.  B.,  1842 194 

XI.  Evening  Hymn 196 


Rejected  Address 201 

The  Lone  Forty  ;  an  Incident  of  Consecration  Day,  1868, 

versified 205 

Lines  to  the  Rev.  Charles  Cleaveland,  on  his  Ninetieth  Birthday  207 

What  is  Poetry? • 209 

What  is  Beauty? ....  213 

Jeu  D'Esprit  on  Lines  by  D.  W.,  describing  "  Annie's  Chamber  "  214 
Griswold's  "Poets  and  Poetry  of  England;"  on  returning  to 

a  Friend  a  borrowed  Copy 215 

Thoughts  for  Age 217 

Lines  to  Miss  A.  M.  M.,  on  the  Gift  of  a  Beautiful  Bracket  in 

the  form  of  a  Cross,  wrought  by  herself;  1865 219 

The  Luxurious  Feast 221 

The  Ledger  of  Life ;  on  completing  my  Seventieth  Year,  Aug. 

15,  1863 223 


CONTENTS.  XI 

Page 

Mary,  the  Mother  of  Jesus 225 

Canary  Bird;  killed  by  Pussy,  1869       227 

A  Love-lorn  Conceit;  JeuD'Esprit 229 

Epithelamium ;  Tenth  Anniversary  of  the  Marriage  of  Mr.  and 

Mrs.  W.  R.  B 231 

The  Birdie's  Song 233 

Song  sung  at  the  Mount  Pleasant  Parish  Supper,  April  9,  1873  235 

Lines  on  the  Silver  Wedding  of  T.  H.  B.,  Sept.  1,  1842-1867     .  238 

The  Epitaph 241 

The  Vision  of  Beauty 243 

Lines  written  in  the  Album  of  H.  B.,  full  of  Beautiful  Engravings  245 

^Translations  from  tfje  jfrencfj. 

Dialogue  between  a  poor  Poet  and  a  Friend 249 

On  Chloe 249 

Our  Ned 250 

Jeu  D'Esprit 250 

The  Ungallant  Lawyer 250 

Epitaph  for  an  Inebriate  who  requested  that  his  Coffin  might  be 

a  Cask  from  which  he  had  drunk  until  it  was  empty  .  .  251 
Epitaph  taken  from  a  Tablet  in  a  Cemetery  a  few  miles  from 

Inkerman,  in  the  Crimea 251 

To  the  Bathers  at  the  Hot-Springs,  Gastien,  Austria  ....  251 

Madrigal 252 

The  good  Auld  Wife 252 

French  Motto 254 

TheEose 255 

Garden  Inscription 256 

The  Violet  to  a  Lady 256 

Franklin's  Monument 257 


X  CONTEXTS. 

HYMNS.  [FIRST  LINES.]                                        Page 

XV.    Enclosed  at  birth  in  mortal  shrine 171 

XVI.    And  must  it  be  ?  and  must  we  die 173 

XVII.    Mighty  Lord!  oh  heed  us,  lead  us 175 

XVIII.    When  all  that's  mortal  dieth 176 


Bebotfonal  anto  Spiritual. 

I.  On  entering  the  Church 179 

II.  Confession  and  Supplication 181 

III.  Penitence 182 

IV.  Prayer 183 

V.  To  whom  shall  we  go,  Lord,  if  not  unto  thee  ....  185 

VI.  The  Nativity 187 

VII.  For  Christmas 188 

VIII.  For  Ordination  or  Installation 190 

IX.  Immortality 192 

X.  Silver  Wedding  Hymn;  T.  H.  B.,  1842 194 

XI.  Evening  Hymn 196 


Rejected  Address 201 

The  Lone  Forty  ;  an  Incident  of  Consecration  Day,  1868, 

versified 205 

Lines  to  the  Rev.  Charles  Cleaveland,  on  his  Ninetieth  Birthday  207 

What  is  Poetry? • 209 

What  is  Beauty? 213 

Jeu  D'Esprit  on  Lines  by  D.  W.,  describing  "  Annie's  Chamber  "  214 
Griswold's  "Poets  and  Poetry  of  England;"  on  returning  to 

a  Friend  a  borrowed  Copy 215 

Thoughts  for  Age 217 

Lines  to  Miss  A.  M.  M.,  on  the  Gift  of  a  Beautiful  Bracket  in 

the  form  of  a  Cross,  wrought  by  herself;  1865 219 

The  Luxurious  Feast 221 

The  Ledger  of  Life ;  on  completing  my  Seventieth  Year,  Aug. 

15,  1863 223 


CONTENTS.  XI 

Page 

Mary,  the  Mother  of  Jesus 225 

Canary  Bird;  killed  by  Pussy,  1869       227 

A  Love-lorn  Conceit ;  Jeu  D'Esprit 229 

Epithelamium ;  Tenth  Anniversary  of  the  Marriage  of  Mr.  and 

Mrs.  VV.  R.  B 231 

The  Birdie's  Song 233 

Song  sung  at  the  Mount  Pleasant  Parish  Supper,  April  9,  1873  235 

Lines  on  the  Silver  Wedding  of  T.  H.  B.,  Sept.  1,  1842-1867     .  238 

The  Epitaph 241 

The  Vision  of  Beauty 243 

Lines  written  in  the  Album  of  H.  B.,  full  of  Beautiful  Engravings  245 


3Tran8lati0n0  from  tfje  Jtendj. 

Dialogue  between  a  poor  Poet  and  a  Friend 249 

On  Chloe 249 

Our  Ned 250 

Jeu  D'Esprit 250 

The  Ungallant  Lawyer 250 

Epitaph  for  an  Inebriate  who  requested  that  his  Coffin  might  be 

a  Cask  from  which  he  had  drunk  until  it  was  empty  .  .  251 
Epitaph  taken  from  a  Tablet  in  a  Cemetery  a  few  miles  from 

Inkerman,  in  the  Crimea 251 

To  the  Bathers  at  the  Hot-Springs,  Gastien,  Austria  ....  251 

Madrigal 252 

The  good  Auld  Wife 252 

French  Motto 254 

The  Rose 255 

Garden  Inscription 256 

The  Violet  to  a  Lady 256 

Franklin's  Monument 257 


AUTUMN    LEA  YES. 

O  D  E : 

FOK  NEW  YEAR'S  EVE,  DEC.  31,  1867. 
MOUNT   PLEASANT    CONGREGATIONAL   SOCIETY. 


STAY!    stay  thy  flight!    old,  hoary,  swift- winged 

Time! 

Stay  thine  unseen,  unceasing  course  sublime ! 
Thine  !    moving  image  of  that  vasty  sea 
Defined  immovable  Eternity ! 
Revealer  !    beautifier  !    of  all  that  cheers  the  sight, 
Replunging  back  the  same  to  endless  night !  * 
By  thee  drawn  hither,  here  thy  current  stay, 
On  this,  thy  latest  offspring's  dying  day ; 
And  ere  to  shine  shall  cease  its  golden  hours, 
Let  some  fond  reminiscences  be  ours. 


*  The  ideas  in  these  opening  lines  are  from  an  ancient  French 
author. 

1 


£  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

Hark  !    he  hears  !    he  heeds  !    and,  as  o'er  Ajalon, 
Time  stays  for  us  the  coursers  of  the  Sun  ! 

And,  crowding  now,  come  visions  on  the  sight, 
To  fill  the  waiting  soul  with  pure  delight : 
They  come,  unbidden  all,  but  not  unblest, 
And  each  a  welcome  and  an  honored  guest ! 
Gaze,  gaze  !  what  vision's  this,  the  foremost  given  ? 
In  letters  glittering  bright, 
Writ  on  the  arch  of  night, 

"The  House  of  God,  the  very  Gate  of  Heaven  !  " 
The  pulpit  there,  —  the  choir  and  singers  here,  — 
And  all  between  the  worshippers  appear : 
Thronging,  —  listening,  —  reverent,  —  low,  — 
With  thoughts  subdued,  —  their  feelings  all  aglow. 
Swells,  now,  the  organ's  thrilling,  pealing  tone  ; 
Anthem  and  song  ascend  to  heaven's  high  throne  ; 
The  pastor  prays,  the  prophet  pleads  with  fire, 
Till  every  soul  for  heaven  and  good  aspire  ; 
The  broken  bread,  the  sacramental  cup, 
To  sweet  communion  lift  the  immortal  up, 
Draws  down  the  Holy  Spirit  nearer  ours, 
And  foretaste  gives  of  heaven's  ambrosial  bowers. 


ODE.  3 

O  place  !    O  seasons  !    most  divinely  blest, 

To  give  the  soul  its  highest,  needed  rest : 

Oh,  long  and  oft  return,  in  coming  years  and  days, 

To  mend  our  hearts  and  lift  our  souls  in  praise  ! 

The  vision  changes  :  tell  us  what  is  this, 
That  so  attracts,  —  suggestive  so  of  bliss  ? 
The  Sunday  School !    where  plants  immortal  rise, 
For  early  training,  to  their  destined  skies  ! 
Lo,  it  is  here  !    with  all  that  magic  charm 
That  comes  to  bless  whene'er  the  heart  is  warm ; 
And  hark!    now,  bursting  on  the  listening  ear, 
A  choral  strain  comes  thrilling,  sweet,  and  clear  : 

We  strew  the  way  with  branches  ; 

We  raise  the  peaceful  banner; 

And  chant  with  cheerful  voices, 
Hosanna !    Hosanna  ! 

Thy  will,  O  God,  be  done  ! 
Hosanna  in  the  highest, 

To  David's  greatest  Son  ! 

For  babes  and  sucklings  raise 
Hosanna  in  the  highest, 

Thine  own  perfected  praise  ! 


4  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

We  strew  the  way  with  branches ; 

We  raise  the  peaceful  banner ; 

We  chant  with  cheerful  voices, 

Hosanna  in  the  Highest ! 

Hosanna !    Hosanna ! 

Hosanna ! 

Ceases  the  hymn  ;  and  now  they  eager  bend, 
And  to  their  teacher's  voice  attention  lend ; 
And  now  they're  gone  :  but  ne'er  to  pass  away, 
The  lessons  learned  upon  this  holy  day ; 
With  power  undimmed  they'll  go  from  sire  to  son, 
Till  the  whole  Gospel's  saving  work  is  done ; 
Till  every  tongue  confess,  and  every  knee 
Shall  bend,  in  purest  homage,  Lord,  to  Thee  ! 

Another  change,  and  lo  !    they  come,  they  come  ! 
A  favored  Circle,  to  a  chosen  home  ! 
In  radiant  rows,  the  rooms  with  beauty  strung, 
Are  busy  all  with  needle  and  with  tongue  : 
Not  angels  !    no,  no  !    but  near  to  them  akin ; 
Like  them  in  grace  ;  as  far,  we  hope,  from  sin. 
No  scandal !    oh,  no  !   not  a  word  of  that, 
'Tis  far  too  stale,  unprofitable,  flat ; 


But  busy  with  the  hand,  to  aid  the  poor 
This  cold,  bleak  world  the  better  to  endure ; 
Busy  with  tongue,  the  Social  Power  to  gain, 
And  thus  attention  on  the  mind  to  chain ; 
To  warm  the  feelings  by  this  art  of  arts, 
And  knit  in  one  a  band  of  Christian  hearts. 
Listen  !   the  cheering  song  goes  round  and  round, 
Till  moved  is  every  heart  by  melting  sound  ! 
The  sportive  play ;  the  pleasing,  mimic  scene, 
Where  recreation's  reapers  richly  glean,  — 
Oh,  give  us  these,  and  give  them  evermore, 
But  with  them,  still,  devotion's  richer  store  ! 

Another  scene,  another  group,  I  see,  I  see  ! 

It  is,  it  is  the  band  of  "  Unity !  " 

The  Kneelands,  Ellisons,  and  all  the  rest 

Of  our  fair  Mount,  the  wisest  and  the  best. 

They  gather  here  for  culture  of  the  mind,  — 

Self- culture,  well  and  justly  so,  defined  ; 

For  growth  of  thought,  for  ready,  graceful  speech, 

And  forms  of  power  that  deeper,  higher,  reach ; 

For  power  supreme  o'er  selfishness  and  self, 

To  hold  enchained  the  inner,  wicked  elf; 


6  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

So  train  the  mind,  so  give  to  Conscience  sway, 

As  on  life's  stage  the  highest  parts  to  play : 

No  minor  things,  no  common,  thoughtless  stand, 

Should  mar  the  doings  of  this  rising  band. 

The  serious  thought  they  may  not  spurn, 

Nor  with  distaste  from  pure  religion  turn ; 

No  :  nor  yet,  —  but,  daring  Muse !  go  not  too  nigh, 

Nor  scorch  thy  gauzy  wings  by  flight  too  high ; 

Beware,  beware  !    and  dread  that  muttering  sound, 

The  mental  "  Earthquake  "  *  of  our  fairy  mound. 

Another  scene?    and  here  a  heathen  Altar? 
And  'round  it  many  a  grave  Idolater? 
Oh,  yes  !  'tis  Cupid's  !    saucy  little  rogue, 
Beguiling  thousands  with  seductive  brogue  ; 
And  fondling,  wheedling,  using  language  strange, 
That  roving  hearts  no  longer  dare  to  range  : 
Simper  they  still,  —  they  bow,  they  laugh,  they 

kiss, — 

And  feel,  or  feign,  the  highest  kind  of  bliss, 
When,  lo  !   the  rogue  !    he  calls  in  Hymen's  aid, 
Nor  quits  his  victim  till  the  forfeit's  paid. 


*  The  name  of  a  MS.  periodical  published  by  the  "Unity.' 


ODE.  7 

The  rogue's  been  here,  all  wreathed  in  flowers  and 

smiles, 

And  conquests  made  by  his  mysterious  wiles ; 
Has  led  off  some  to  Hymen's  fragrant  bower, 
While,  all,  impatient,  wait  their  coming  hour. 

But,  badinage  apart,  this  truth  we  claim, 
That  never  shines  this  altar's  sacred  flame, 
Than  leaping  comes  one  thrilling,  blessed  word, 
The  irrepressible,  that  must  be  heard,  — 
To  ev'ry  heart,  to  every  tongue  'twill  come,  — 
That '  all- enchanting    word     of    "  HOME,    sweet 
HOME ! " 

But  all  life's  scenes  are  not  thus  gay  and  glad, 
But  with  the  joyous  mingled  are  the  sad  : 
The  bow  and  arrow  may  be  sport  to  some, 
Bnt  death's  dark  javelin  to  others  come  ; 
It  strikes  the  infant,  middle-aged,  the  old, 
And  leaves  the  "  vacant  chair  "  for  every  fold. 

WE  miss  that  manly  form,  that  well-knit  frame, 
Who  to  our  sacred  haunts  so  constant  came ; 


8  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

That  pleasant,  serious  face  when  health  was  best, 
So  calm  when  sinking  to  his  final  rest.* 

That  maiden,  too,  who,  drooping,  happy  died,  — 
The  sister's  fondest  prop,  the  parent's  pride, 
Still  hov'ring  near  us,  with  an  angel's  grace, 
And  becks  our  young  to  run  the  Christian  race.f 

That  good  old  man  who,  at  his  post  of  trust, 
Was  known  of  all  as  upright,  honest,  just ; 
Who  kept  his  even  way,  with  manners  kind, 
And  left  the  world  —  but  not  one  foe  —  behind.  ^ 

And  he,  of  years  few  less,  experience  more, 
Who  bravely  sickness,  griefs,  and  trials  bore, 
Sheltered  through  all  by  home  of  tend'rest  love, 
Passed  on,  to  find  a  better  one  above.  § 

And  yesterday  !    Oh,  bitter,  bitter  grief  ! 

For  which  but  prayers  and  time  can  bring  relief ! 

*  William  Souther,  Esq.  f  Miss  Anna  Liverniore. 

J  Joseph  White,  Esq.,  Cashier  of  Atlas  Bank. 
§  Benjamin  W.  Nevers,  Esq. 


ODE. 

Departed  Miles  !    so  modest,  faithful,  true, 
Beloved  of  all  who  all  thy  virtues  knew ; 
Thy  path  in  life  the  one  the  Saviour  trod, 
And  found  thy  purest  joy  thro'  faith  in  God.* 

And  those  sweet  cherubs  who,  in  caskets  laid, 
Seemed  less  for  earth  and  more  for  heaven  made.f 

These  are  thy  spoils,  voracious  Sixty-Seven, 
The  gems  WE  mourn,  laid  up  for  us  in  heaven. 

Not  we  alone  :    more,  ay,  more,  the  State, 
Which  mourns  for  him  confessed  by  all  as  Great; 
Great,  because  wise,  and  yet  more  great  as  good, 
And  foremost  as  a  Christian  Patriot  stood ; 
Sagacious,  hpnest,  philanthropic,  wise,  — 
Fitted  for  earth,  yet  better  for  the  skies,  — 
ANDREW  !    thy  name  we  speak  with  honest  pride, 
Who  lived  for  Truth,  and  for  thy  country  died  ! 
In  words  historic  be  embalmed  thy  name, 
And  made  immortal  on  the  rolls  of  Fame ! 

*  Henry  P.  Miles,  Esq. 

t  Infants  of  W.  C.  Hunneman,  Esq.,  and  Mr.  Riddell. 


10  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

'Tis  said,  "  Times  change,  and  with  them  manners 

change ; " 

A  simple  truth,  but  neither  new  nor  strange  ; 
For,  like  the  stream  that's  ever  on  the  flow, 
Man's  generations  from  each  other  grow. 
The  same  the  stream,  but,  flowing  calmly  by, 
New  forms,  new  scenes,  come  glancing  on  the  eye; 
In  light  and  shade  reflect  their  varied  hue, 
And  teach,  —  Yield  up  the  OLD,  accept  the  NEW. 
We're  here  to-night  this  lesson  to  receive, 
And,  as  it  teaches,  in  the  future  live. 

Yet,  ere  we  part,  one  word  of  witching  spell 

Enchains  the  heart,  the  tongue  :    it  is  Farewell. 

It  casts  its  spell  o'er  every  feeling  heart, 

And  bids  us  linger  as  from  friends  we  part ; 

E'en  things  invisible  assert  the  power, 

And  strangely  bind  us  to  the  parting  hour,  — 

That  deepest  feeling  of  the  heart  refined, 

Which  casts  "one  longing,  lingering  look  behind." 

And  so,  Old  Year,  ere  we  should  bid  adieu 
To  all  our  pleasures,  labors,  and  to  You, 


ODE.  11 

A  pleasing,  retrospective  eye  we've  cast, 

And  fondly  lingered  as  we've  felt  'twas  —  LAST. 

Thanks   for   thy  gifts !     Thanks,   dear,   departing 

Year, 

As  on  thy  grave  we  drop  the  parting  tear. 
Much   hast  thou  ta'en,  withheld,  but  more  hast 

given, 

To  fill  our  earthly  cup,  and  win  to  heaven ; 
And,  though  dark  shadows  on  thy  mem'ry  rest, 
Of  all  thy  lengthened  train  we'll  crown  thee  best. 
Good-by,  Old  Year,  with  all  of  wrong  and  strife, 
And  to  the  New  pledge  we  a  Better  Life ; 
With  our  great  Leader,  march  we  bravely  on, 
Nor  give  the  battle  o'er  till  victory  is  won ! 

But  lo  !   the  scene  recedes,  and  broke  the  spell, 
As  sadly  strikes  the  ear  the  word,  — Farewell. 


CHRISTMAS     CAROLS. 


SEE  !  oh  see  !  the  morn  is  breaking, 

With  the  heaven's  own  dazzling  light ; 
Angel-choirs  are  sweetly  singing, 

Filling  earth  with  pure  delight. 
Round  and  round  it  far  is  spreading, 

Never,  never  more  to  cease  ; 
Glad  to  earth  the  tidings  bringing, 

Joy  to  men,  good  will,  and  peace ! 
Thus  our  Saviour's  reign  revealing, 

It  unveils  our  future  home  ; 
Gently  o'er  us  moving,  stealing, 

Hear  it  whisper,  —  come,  oh  come  ! 

Hear,  O  dear  one  !  hear  this  singing ; 
Let  it  mould  thine  every  thought, 


CHRISTMAS    CAROLS.  13 

So  control  thy  thoughts  and  feeling, 

Love  for  Christ  in  thee  be  wrought. 
As  it  goes  on  swelling,  swelling, 

Bend,  oh  bend  a  ready  ear, 
Till  all  of  sin  from  thee  expelling, 

White  as  snow  thy  heart  appear  : 
So  the  spirit  in  thee  dwelling, 

Lowly  then  shall  Christ-like  be  ; 
Then  shall  joy,  all  joy  excelling, 

Crown  thy  life  with  victory. 


14 


II. 


A  GEM  !    a  gem  !   it  glistens  bright, 

As  out  it  comes  in  broad  day-light ! 

How  hundreds  gather  round  the  spot 

To  know  who'll  have,  or  who  will  not ! 

Look,  how  they  peer  with  anxious  eyes 

To  see  who'll  gain  the  precious  prize  ! 

But  only  one  THIS  prize  can  gain, 

And  all  the  rest  must  strive  in  vain. 

A  gem  !  a  gem  !  the  angels  cry, 

A  gem  that  comes  from  out  the  sky! 

A  priceless  gem  of  worth  untold, 

And  precious  more  than  gain  of  gold ! 

'Twas  found  in  heaven,  'twas  stamped  on  earth, 

But  here,  alas !  unknown  its  worth. 

Few  gathered  round  where  this  was  laid, 

Nor  long  to  gain  the  prize  they  stayed ; 

But  ready  were  to  scorn  the  Gem, 

Though  safety's  amulet  for  them. 


CHRISTMAS    CAROLS.  15 

They  trod  it  down,  they  bleared  its  mark, 

And  gloried  in  their  deed  so  dark. 

Trod  down  it  was,  but  not  for  ever : 

The  body  crushed,  the  spirit  never ; 

Again  'tis  found,  but  now  'tis  many, 

To  be  secured,  and  worn  by  any. 

'Twas  ONE  :  in  myriad  pieces  broken, 

'Tis  cherished  now  as  virtue's  holiest  token,  — 

The  Cross,  the  Cross  !    the  Christian's  symbol, 

The  richest  prize  for  one  and  all. 


16 


III. 

YOUTHFUL  mysteries  disappear, 

As  day  by  day  goes  by ; 
Little  by  little,  year  by  year, 

Till  seem  they  sham  or  lie. 
In  our  young  days  'tis  grand  good  fun, 

When  Christmas  comes  along, 
To  hear  the  wassailers'  stories  spun, 

The  merry  Christmas  song. 

'Tis  sport  enough  to  hear  the  deer, 

That  draws  old  Santa  Claus, 
To  our  own  chimney  drawing  near, 

And  at  our  door-step  pause. 
It  shakes  our  sides  Old  Nick  to  see, 

In  mock  heroic  clothes, 
Swaying  about  his  Christmas  tree, 

As  he  his  gifts  bestows. 

Yes  !  fun  enough  when  we  are  young ; 
But  age  strips  off  the  mask, 


CHRISTMAS    CAROLS.  17 

Then  shows  and  shams  away  are  flung, 

And  truth  is  what  we  ask. 
The  old  man  goes,  but  truths  abide, 

'Tis  Christmas,  Christmas,  still: 
The  Christ  is  still  the  maiden's  guide, 

If  love  controls  her  will. 

And  better  gifts  than  those  of  youth 

Come  with  the  Holiday,  — 
The  precious  gifts  of  grace  and  truth, 

Through  Him,  the  Life,  the  Way. 
The  gifts  are  sweet  just  as  before, 

The  hands  as  kind  that  give ; 
But  these  are  valued  more  and  more, 

The  longer  we  shall  live. 
Cherish  the  day,  then,  deep  and  true, 

Its  meaning  free  of  dross  : 
Life  has  its  sports  of  transient  hue, 

But  never  fades  the  CROSS. 


18 


IV. 

JESTJS  the  Saviour,  born  to-day, 

On  children  smile  e'en  while  they  play  : 

He  speaks  in  love  to  girls  and  boys, 

To  soothe  their  griefs,  to  grace  their  joys ; 

Yea,  more,  —  he  takes  them  by  the  hand, 

To  guide  them  to  the  Better  Land  ; 

And  points  out  clear  the  blessed  road 

That  leads  to  his  divine  abode. 

Hark  !  He  speaks  to  every  child, 

In  charmed  words,  both  soft  and  mild,  — 

"  Two  roads  there  are  your  sight  within  : 

The  one  is  broad,  the  road  of  sin  ; 

The  Tempter  stands  near  by  its  gate, 

And,  urging,  says,  Oh  do  not  wait ! 

Come  in,  come  in  !  oh  see  my  flowers  ! 

Come  sit  beneath  my  fragrant  bowers  ; 

Come  take  my  cup,  he  winning  says, 

As  he  his  flaunting  banner  sways  ! 


CHRISTMAS    CAROLS.  19 

But,  boys,  take  care !  the  thorns  he  HIDES, 
Nor  shows  how  near  the  serpent  glides  ! 
Who  goes  in  there  will  downward  go, 
And  reach,  at  length,  the  land  of  woe. 

"But  look  you  here  (Christ  speaks  again)  : 

A  path  more  narrow,  straight  and  plain ; 

But  'TIS  MY  OWN,  —  I  pray  you  come  ; 

'Twill  take  ye  to  my  blessed  home. 

The  entrance  hard,  but  smooth  'twill  grow, 

As  down  the  valley's  waters  flow  : 

Go  in,  go  on,  and  very  soon 

'Twill  be  as  bright  as  month  of  June : 

There  flowers  their  sweetest  fragrance  shed  ; 

There  birds  sing  blithely  overhead  ; 

The  trees  their  loaded  branches  bend, 

And  all  their  balmy  foliage  lend  : 

No  serpents  there  shall  round  thee  glide, 

But  angels  sing  on  every  side; 

Their  words  shall  be,  —  boy,  bend  to  hear 

As  they  shall  draw  to  you  anear,  — 

Keep  in  this  path  ;  be  good,  be  wise ; 

Your  God  and  duty  ever  prize ; 


20  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

Be  kind,  obedient,  loving  me : 

Then  you  the  Happy  Land  shall  see, 

The  shining  gate  shall  enter  in. 

No  sorrow  there,  nor  death,  nor  sin, 

But  one   '  house  beautiful '  your  dwelling  ever, 

Where    friends   and    kindred   meet,   no   more    to 


V. 

TELL  me,  niece,  and  tell  me  true, 
Is't  not  something  strange  and  new, 
That,  for  you  and  me,  this  morn, 
A  Saviour  Christ  is  truly  born  ? 
That  he  comes  this  very  day, 
And  bids  his  angels  sing  the  lay, 
Peace  to  you,  and  peace  to  all, 
Who  will  hear  their  Saviour's  call ; 
Peace  to  every  willing  soul, 
Who  will  come  and  share  his  fold  ? 

Sweet  girl,  listen  !  hear  the  word 
Which  is  spoken  by  the  Lord  : 
As  to-day  you  laugh  and  play, 
Think  that  he's  the  only  "  Way ;  " 
As  you  grow  in  life  and  youth, 
Think  of  him  alone  as  "  Truth  ;  " 
As  you  join  in  care  and  strife, 
Remember  he  alone  is  "  Life." 


AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

He  alone  the  "  Way  "  can  show, 
How  in  goodness  you  can  grow  ; 
He  alone  the  "  Truth  "  can  teach, 
How  his  kingdom  you  can  reach ; 
He  alone  the  "  Life  "  bestow, 
Bliss  above  and  bliss  below. 
Be  your  thoughts,  then,  Christ-like,  pure, 
Thus  a  happy  mind  secure ; 
Then,  your  feelings  good  and  kind, 
Peace  within  and  joy  you'll  find ; 
Then  your  actions,  always  right, 
Shall  be  crowned  with  heavenly  light ; 
Then  true  and  loving,  wise  and  just, 
In  God  and  Christ  your  strongest  trust ; 
Then  men  below  shall  give  you  aid, 
And  heaven  for  you  with  gems  be  laid. 


NEW    YEAE. 


SANTA,  old  Santa,  is  here  again,  —  whack  ; 

How  funny  and  queer  is  he  ! 
He  bears  with  a  grin,  on  his  fur-covered  back, 
A  large  and  a  stuffed  and  a  wonderful  pack, 
Which  he  opens  and  shuts  with  a  singular  knack, 

As  hither  and  thither  he  swingeth  his  tree  ! 

A  singing  old  fellow  this  Santa  Glaus  is, 

His  heart  full  of  joy  and  glee  ! 
You  cannot  but  laugh  at  his  comical  phiz, 
As  he  tosses  his  gifts  to  that  one  and  this,  — 
Or   sends   them    down  chimneys   with   a  terrible 
whiz, 

Or  shaketh  them  out  from  his  Christmas  tree. 

Old  Santa  Glaus  a  good  fellow,  they  say, 
With  glittering  gems  and  gifts  on  his  tree : 


£4  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

He  stuffs  them  in  stockings  by  night  or  by  day, 
As  to  you  "Merry  Christmas!"  he  trolls  on  his 

way, 

And  cheers  up  the  young  as  they  sportively  play  : 
A  frolicsome,  kind  old  fellow  is  he  ! 

Santa,  old  Santa,  thus  trudging  along, 

Merrily  swings  his  holly-decked  tree  ! 
And  cheerily  sings  he,  all  the  night  long, 
Of  angels,  that  wonderful  Christmas  song, 
Peace  on  earth,  with  voice  shaky  but  strong  : 
A  muscular  old  Christian  is  he  ! 

Ye  children,  give  hail  to  old  Santa  Glaus, 

Scattering  his  bonbons  so  free  ! 
And  all,  for  a  moment,  then  silently  pause, 
And  each  echo  back  with  glowing  applause,  — 
Far  better  the  gift  than  all  of  earth's  toys,  — 

"  Peace  on  earth,  and  good- will,  ever  be  !  " 


SPRING. 


UNSEEN  spirits  tread  the  mountains, 

Through  the  meadows,  o'er  the  plains ; 
Streams  o'erflow  as  living  fountains, 

Swollen  by  soft  or  sudden  rains. 
Springing  out  and  up  around  us 

Is  the  blossom,  bud,  and  spire, 
Which  like  miracles  astound  us, 

Or,  rejoicing,  we  admire. 

Freshly  willow-tags  are  dancing, 

And  the  elm's  of  browner  hue  ; 
Sunlight  o'er  the  tulip  glancing, 

Or  the  violet  gemmed  with  dew  ; 
Snow-drop,  crocus,  hyacinth, 

Thrust  their  heads  through  earth  and  snow  ; 
Brownish  bulbs  a  short  time  since, 

Now,  uprising,  sweetly  blow. 


26  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

Fringed  with  green,  just  tipt  the  branches, 

Freshly  dipped  in  nature's  dye, 
As  the  season  more  advances, 

Bourgeon  forth  to  bless  the  eye. 
Bird  and  insect,  loudly  singing, 

Fill  the  air  with  music  sweet ; 
Nature  to  the  altar  bringing 

Offerings  rich,  with  love  replete. 

Come,  O  man  !  and  do  not  falter, 

Image  ye  of  Love  Divine  ; 
Bring  thyself  to  his  great  altar, 

Thus  o'er  all  superior  shine. 


HOPE. 


'Tis  HOPE,  sister  Faith,  who  comes  at  thy  call, 
To  flood  with  her  light  the  bosoms  of  all ; 
Beauteous  they  call  me,  and  sweet  to  behold, 
With  fairest  of  locks  in  nettings  of  gold. 
I  come  to  awaken  the  happiest  of  dreams, 
And  fulness  of  scope  to  the  fondest  of  schemes  ; 
To  captives  their  freedom,  to  sick  men  their  health, 
To  lovers  a  victory,  the  beggar  his  wealth. 
Enchanter  am  I,  in  whose  herbaries  grow 
Wreaths  for  each  toil  and  charms  for  each  woe  ; 
Who  whispereth  pleasure  in  every  riew  song, 
And  calleth  on  echo  the  strain  to  prolong. 
Eternal,  say  poets,  I  "  spring  in  the  breast ; 
Man  never  is,  but  always  to  be  blest ;  " 
For  uneasy  the  soul  is,  away  from  its  home, 
And  only  finds  rest  in  the  new  one  to  come  ! 
Then  speak,  sister  Faith,  say,  is  it  not  so  ? 
Our  hope  is  in  heaven,  and  not  here  below. 


THE    LITTLE    CUP    OF    TEARS. 

A    GERMAN    LEGEND. 

THREE. days,  three  nights,  with  bitter  tears, 
A  mother  wept  her  darling  child  ; 

Three  days,  three  nights,  with  anguished  fears, 
Her  frantic  grief  was  sad  and  wild. 

Three  days,  three  nights,  the  needed  food, 
She  to  her  wants  and  lips  denied  ; 

And  on  the  self-same  spot  now  stood 
As  where  her  little  daughter  died. 

'Twas  then,  through  softly  opened  door, 

Came  in  the  dear  departed  one ; 
An  angel's  dress  of  beauty  wore, 

A  seraph's  smile  already  won. 

And  in  her  hand  she  held  a  cup, 
Of  tiny  form  and  magic  spell, 


THE    LITTLE    CUP    OF    TEARS.  29 

Full  with  her  mother's  tears,  caught  up 
By  morning's  angel  as  they  fell. 

"Mother,"  she  said,  "I'm  happy  now, 

And  all  is  well  with  me  above  ; 
Before  the  throne  in  praise  I  bow, 

And  with  the  blessed  dwell  in  love. 

tf  Then,  dearest  mother,  weep  no  more, 
This  cup  of  tears  must  not  o'erflow ; 

A  single  drop  will  run  it  o'er, 
And  then  my  fate  is  future  woe." 

The  mother's  eyes  quick  sought  the  brim 
And  felt  the  warning  timely  given  ; 

Thenceforth,  her  sight  no  longer  dim, 

The  vanished  child  found  bliss  in  heaven. 


so 


THE   RESTLESS   LITTLE   BOY, 


AND   WHAT   BEFELL   HIM. 


OKOE  lived  a  restless  little  boy, 

Who  never  could  be  still  ; 
He  pulled  at  this,  he  tugged  at  that, 

With  strong,  unyielding  will ; 
He  plagued  his  pa,  he  plagued  his  ma, 

His  uncle,  as  to  that, 
And  worried  all  within  the  house, 

Much  more  than  dog  or  cat. 
"  Be  still,"  —  "  be  quiet,"  —  "  be  less  rude, 

Were  echoed  round  and  round, 
But  yet  no  peace  within  the  house 

Could,  up  or  down,  be  found. 
'Twas  turning  here  or  twisting  there, 

Whether  at  church  or  school, 


THE    RESTLESS    LITTLE    BOY.  31 

And    though    they    coaxed,    and    though  they 
switched, 

Restless  and  rude  his  rule  : 
They  plead,  they  chided  more  and  more, 

"Be  still,"  —  "be  not  so  rude  ;  " 
And,  though  it  came  from  aunts  and  all, 

They  found  it  did  no  good. 


One  summer's  day,  with  heat  o'ercome, 

And  tired  with  boisterous  play, 
On  parlor  floor  he  fell  asleep,  — 

Face  up,  back  down,  he  lay. 
He  dreamt :  —  some  fairies,  spying  round, 

Came  briskly  through  the  door ; 
They  took  some  strings,  they  took  some  pegs, 

And  bound  him  to  the  floor  : 
With  these,  of  cunning,  magic  strength, 

They  fastened  down  his  hair ; 
With  other  cords  his  shoulders  bound, 

Then  tied  his  body  there  : 
One  round  his  knees  then  made  him  fast; 

Another,  round  the  feet; 


'<,  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

And  then  our  restless  little  boy 

A  prisoner  was  complete. 
Their  work  now  done,  they  rushed  away, 

And  left  him  fast  asleep, 
But  left  the  great,  wide  door  ajar, 

That  through  it  they  might  peep. 


The  dreamer  woke  !    his  look,  how  strange 

He  tried  in  vain  to  move, 
For  tighter  drew  the  magic  bands, 

The  more  and  more  he  strove. 
He  cried,  he  bawled,  —  but  all  for  naught, 

For  well  was  done  their  work ; 
The  more  he  tried,  the  more  he  cried, 

The  broader  was  their  smirk. 


At  length,  tired  out,  FOR  ONCE  WAS  STILL, 

And  fell  to  sleep  again ; 
Then  in  they  rushed,  and  round  him  swung, 

And,  passing,  touched  his  brain  ! 
Again  he  dreamt :  how  strange,  how  wild  ! 

But  all  unconscious  dreamed  ; 


THE    RESTLESS    LITTLE    BOY.  33 

The  scene  to  him  so  vivid  was, 

A  real  one  it  seemed. 
They  fluttered  o'er  his  little  head, 

And  whispered  in  his  ear 
Words  mysterious,  soft,  and  sweet, 

But  these  could  plainly  hear  : 
"  Ye  restless  one,  give  us  the  pledge, 

If  we  will  set  you  free, 
That,  henceforth,  you  will  nevermore 

Nor  rude  nor  restless  be." 

Amazed,  alarmed,  he  gave  the  pledge  : 

"  Henceforth  I  will  be  still ; 
At  school,  at  church,  at  home,  abroad, 

By  force  of  thought  and  will." 
And,  after  this,  if  restless  he, 

They  only  had  to  say, 
"  Remember,  boy,  the  fairies  dream," 

And  he  was  stilled  alway. 


34 


PRINCE     HALEWYN. 


LORD  HALEWYN,  the  Prince, 

The  gallant  and  gay, 
Most  bewitchingly  sung 

A  curious  old  lay. 
The  fair  daughters  of  kings, 

And  of  princes  the  pride, 
From  this  court  and  that, 

He  charmed  to  his  side  : 
They  rushed  to  his  palace, 

They  buzzed  round  the  flame, 
But  oh  !    never  returned,  — 

Or  returned  but  with  shame. 

A  neighboring  king's  daughter, 
Beguiled  by  his  song, 


PRINCE    HALEWYN.  35 

Had  a  feeling  awakened, 

As  curious  as  strong : 
"  I'll  meet  him  in  person, 

To  his  court  will  repair ; 
I'll  redress  others'  wrongs, 

Or  their  fate  bravely  share." 

But  though  curious  and  brave, 

And  romantically  bent, 
She  must  first  seek  her  friends, 

And  gain  their  consent. 

She  went  to  her  father, 

And  she  fell  at  his  feet, 
And  made  known  her  wishes, 

In  tones  earnest  and  sweet : 
"  Father,  dear  father, 

To  the  Prince  let  me  go." 
But  quickly  he  answered  : 

"Oh,  no  !    my  child,  no! 
Gone,  gone  have  the  many, 

And  gone  with  fair  fame, 
But  have  never  returned,  — 

Or  returned  but  with  shame." 


36  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

She  went  to  her  mother,  — 

"  Mother,  consent  that  I  go  ;  " 
But  she  answered  as  quickly : 

"  Oh,  no  !    my  child,  no  ! 
Plead  ne'er  a  word  more, 

Your  words  are  in  vain  ; 
For  they  who  go  thither, 

Return  not  again." 

She  went  to  her  sister,  — 

"  Sis,  consent  that  I  go  ;  " 
But,  with  sisterly  love, 

She  answered  her,  —  "  No  : 
Your  aim  it  is  noble, 

But  surely  you'll  fall ; 
For  the  fate  of  the  first 

Is  the  fate  of  them  all." 

Thwarted  and  vexed, 

To  her  brother  she  sped  : 

"  To  the  Prince  let  me  go," 
She  beseechingly  said. 

"  Oh  !    little  do  I  care," 

Was  the  answer  he  gave; 


PRINCE    HALEWYN.  37 

"  But,  O  sister  !    be  sure 

Your  honor  to  save  : 
Go  ;  go,  if  you  will ; 

I  smile  not,  nor  frown  ; 
But  be  sure  to  bring  back, 

Unstained,  honor  and  crown." 


These  words  were  enough  ; 

So,  with  speed  and  with  art, 
She  prepared  to  perform 

Her  well-conceived  part,  — 
Took  helmet  and  hauberk, 

Her  shield  and  her  spear, 
And  sought  him  full-armed, 

In  his  own  regal  sphere. 

The  welcome  was  courteous, 

Kind  greetings  were  flun«f, 

The  wine- cup  was  proffered, 
And  the  song  it  was  sung. 

But,  unmoved  in  her  aim, 

She  sought  him  in  fight; 


38  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

And  he  took  up  her  glove, 

In  seeming  delight. 
They  spurred  to  the  field, 

Without  rashness  or  fear,  — 
Both  armed  at  all  points, 

Both  wielding  the  spear. 
Then  on  came  the  conflict; 

'Twas  sharp,  but  not  long; 
For  the  spell  had  departed 

From  person  and  song. 
She  grappled,  —  she  clove  him  ; 

The  shock  brought  him  down; 
And  home  she  returned, 

With  honor  and  crown. 


'Tis  the  counsel  of  ages, 

To  old  and  to  young, 
From  poets  and  sages, 

The  wisest  who've  sung,  — 

"  Yearn  to  KNOW  and  to  DO  ;  " 
But  gain  first  the  consent 

Of  friends  constant  and  true  : 


PRINCE    HALEWYN. 

Then  gird  ye  with  Faith, 

In  Truth  shielded  strong, 
A  panoply  sure 

From  the  Tempter's  bland  song 
Then,  if  conflict  must  come, 

With  courage  bear  down, 
And  be  sure  to  bring  back 

Both  honor  and  crown. 


40 


THE     FEAR     OF     DEATH. 

A   PERSIAN   TALE. 

A  PERSIAN  poet  tells  a  tale, 

In  quiet,  simple  strain, 
How  fear  of  death  did  once  prevail, 

And  human  wills  restrain  :  — 


THE    TALE. 

"  The  angel  Death  to  Lokman  said : 
'  An  answer  to  this  question  give  in,  — 

How  is't  three  thousand  years  have  sped, 
And  you  no  house  have  built  to  live  in  ?  * 

" '  O  Azrael !    ever  dogging  at  our  heels, 
My  answer  is  a  short  but  sad  one  : 

Thus  dogged,  —  to  build,  the  merest  fool 
Would  justly,  truly  call  me  mad  one.' 


THE    FEAR.    OF    DEATH.  41 

"  So  Lokman,  to  his  dying  day, 

Looked  ever  on  this  dark  and  blank  side ; 
Lived  in  a  hut  of  reeds  and  clay, 

A-making  baskets  on  the  bankside." 


The  Christian  fears  not  thus  to  die ; 
But,  armed  with  faith,  with  foresight  filled, 
He  builds  to  live,  and,  lives  to  build 
Eternal  mansions  in  the  sky. 


FAITH     ILLUSTRATED. 

CECIL'S  STORY  OF  THE  BEADS. 

A  SAINTED  man,  tradition  saith, 
Who  felt  the  worth  of  Christian  faith, 
Standing,  one  day,  his  daughter  by, 
With  loving  heart,  observant  eye, 
Seized  on  the  time  one  truth  to  teach 
That  might  her  inner  nature  reach,  — 
Took  this  wise  way  to  sow  the  seed, 
His  child's  deep  want  in  hour  of  need. 

'Twas  there,  in  quiet,  happy  mood, 
Near  to  the  hearth  on  which  he  stood, 
His  daughter  played  with  string  of  beads, 
On  which  the  blue  to  red  succeeds ; 
Pretty,  but  paltry,  glittering  bright, 
To  dazzle  childhood's  simple  sight; 
He  watched  her  laugh,  her  tender  touch, 
And  saw  she  loved  them,  —  oh,  how  much  ! 


FAITH    ILLUSTRATED.  43 

"My  child,"  he  said,  with  serious  air, 

"  Pretty,  those  beads  which  you  have  there  ?  " 

"  Yes,  pa."     K  Now,  then,  throw  them  i'  the  fire." 

The  child  looked  up,  with  one  strong  gaze, 

Of  hesitation  and  amaze. 

"  Do  as  you  please,  my  daughter  dear, 

But,  learn  this  truth,  most  certain,  clear : 

Your  father  never  would,  nor  could, 

Ask  you  to  act  but  for  your  good." 

Quick  as  a  flash,  as  quickly  o'er, 
A  struggle  came,  ne'er  felt  before ; 
But,  to  her  instincts  sweetly  true, 
Into  the  fire  her  beads  she  threw. 

;t  'Tis  well,  my  child  !    there  let  them  lie,  — 
Hereafter  learn  my  reasons  why  ; 
The  day  will  come,  and  not  in  vain, 
When  you  shall  hear  of  them  again." 

Returning  home  one  festal  day, 

He  met  his  daughter  blithe  and  gay  : 

A  casket  in  his  hand  he  bore, 


44  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

The  like  she  ne'er  had  seen  before  ; 

'Twas  filled  with  beads,  —  with  trinkets  rare, 

And  richer  gems,  that  sparkled  there. 

As  o'er  the  child  the  vision  stole, 
Her  gazing  eyes  in  rapture  roll. 

"  My  child,  'tis  yours,  —  a  gift  to  thee, 
Because  you  put  your  trust  in  me,  — 
Gave  up,  in  faith,  a  trifling  toy, 
And,  in  return,  comes  this  great  joy. 
Have,  my  dear  child,  like  faith  in  God ; 
Be  his  will  yours,  his  pathways  trod  ; 
And  then  shall  come  the  great  reward,  — 
The  promised  gifts,  that  gem  his  Word." 


45 


FAITH     AND     WORKS. 

A   LEGENDARY    TALE. 

A  SAINTED  monk,  who  led  a  life, 

Far,  far  away  from  noise  and  strife, 

In  hermit  cell,  in  forest  wild,  — 

A  useless  one,  but  undefiled, — 

Thought  that  from  heaven  a  voice  he  heard, 

Which  both  his  pride  and  conscience  stirred  : 

"Serene,"  it  said,  "the  life  spent  here, 
But  not  so  good,  nor  perfect  near, 
As  his,  —  the  cobbler's,  —  far  away, 
A  dweller  in  Alexandria." 

Startled  by  this,  abroad  he  roved, 
To  find  this  man  of  Heaven  approved ; 
He  sought,  he  found  ;  and,  as  a  test, 
Such  words  as  these  to  him  addressed : 
"Pray  tell  me,  sir,  what  you  have  done, 
By  which  such  praise  from  Heaven  was  won. 


46  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

"  So  simple,  sir,  so  plain  the  mould, 
A  cobbler's  tale  is  quickly  told  : 
Early  each  morn  to  prayer  I  go, 
For  friends  or  foes,  in  weal  or  woe  ; 
Then  through  the  day  on  bench  I  sit, 
A  meagre  living  so  to  get ; 
Avoiding  falsehood's  evil  way, 
No  foes  deceive,  nor  friends  betray ; 
Forgetting  not  the  suffering  poor, 
A  pittance  give  from  scanty  store. 
Such  is  the  sum  of  my  poor  life, 
Passed  in  the  midst  of  noise  and  strife." 

Here  ends  the  tale  ;    but  tell,  who  can  : 
Returned  this  monk  a  wiser  man  ? 
Abjured  he  cell  and  mystic  quirks, 
To  take  the  cobbler's  creed  of  "  works  "  ? 
That  creed  of  faith  and  love  combined, 
The  perfect  one  for  human  kind. 


47 


DESIGN    IN     CREATION. 

FOUNDED  ON  FACT.      CECIL. 

AH,  the  good  man  !    with  serious  air, 
And  brow  all  knit  with  anxious  care ; 
Follow  him  down  his  garden  plot, 
To  one  selected,  fertile  spot, 
Where  hours  had  flown  in  pleasant  toil, 
To  mellow  and  enrich  the  soil: 
There  see  him  now,  with  sense  of  joy, 
Trace  clear  the  name  of  his  dear  boy, 
Strew  in  those  furrows  seeds  of  cress, 
Then  smooth  the  ground  with  gentleness. 

Days  quick  flew  by,  till  one  bright  morn, 
His  boy  came  running  o'er  the  lawn, 
Calling,  —  "  Father  !    thy  footsteps  stay, 
For  I  have  something  strange  to  say : 
Down  in  the  garden,  I  declare, 
My  name  is  growing  plainly  there." 


48  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

"  Poh  !    poh  !    my  son,  you  would  provoke, 
Or  play  on  me  some  childish  joke  !  " 

"No,  no,  dear  father :  come  and  see ; 
Come,  come !    you  must  along  with  me  !  " 

Drawn  toward  the  spot,  they  spied  the  row, 
Chatting,  'twas  strange  that  names  should  grow  ! 
Near  and  more  near  to  it  they  came, 
And  there,  full-grown,  they  saw  the  name  ! 

"My  son,"  he  said,  as  both  advance, 
"  'Tis  so  ;   but  came  it  not  by  chance  ?  " 

"  No,  no,  dear  father  !    chance  'tis  none, 
It  was  contrived,  on  purpose  done  !  " 

The  father's  joy  was  unrestrained, 
For  now  his  point  was  fully  gained : 
"You're  right,  my  child  :  contrived  it  was, 
To  teach  you  him,  the  First  Great  Cause. 
Look  up,  and  see  that  deep-blue  arch, 
Through  which  the  worlds  in  order  march ; 


DESIGN    IN    CREATION.  49 

Look  down,  and  scan  the  beauteous  flower, 
Un wrought  by  any  human  power ; 
Observe  your  hand,  — your  curious  eye,  — 
Your  form  of  perfect  symmetry  ; 
And,  more  than  all,  your  thinking  mind  : 
These  all  contrived,  these  all  designed, 
Give  instant  proof,  as  sunlight  clear, 
That  a  Creator's  hand  was  here, 
With  purpose,  plans,  and  means  to  ends, 
In  which,  with  power,  sweet  mercy  blends. 
'Tis  God,  my  child,  the  Great  First  Cause, 
Who  speaks  in  love,  through  nature's  laws 
Revealing  him,  as  this,  your  name, 
Reveals  the  hand  by  which  it  came,  — 
From  earthly  sire,  not  chance,  my  son, 
Who  lives  in  him,  the  All  in  One. 


PRIMAL    TRUTHS. 


PRIMAL    TRUTHS. 


I. 

THE     CHILD. 


THE  human  child  hath  done  no  sin, 
For  blame  to  bear,  or  praise  to  win ; 
The  praise  or  blame  must  yet  be  won, 
By  sinful  acts  or  good  deeds  done. 


II. 

THE    YOUTH. 


THE  hopeful  youth,  who  spans  his  teens, 
And  would  succeed,  must  steady  tread : 
Must  learn  of  life  the  All  it  means, 
Take  Virtue's  path,  by  Truth  be  led. 


54  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

III. 

THE     MAN. 
THE  man  is  what  the  past  has  made  him, 

But  can  control  his  nature  still ; 
And,  if  the  Tempter  has  betrayed  him, 

Can  conquer  yet,  if  but  he  will. 


IV. 

MATRIMONY. 

WHEN  we  go  to  the  altar  with  smiles  on  the  face, 
And  the  ring  is  put  on  with  a  charming  good  grace, 
The  heart  in  the  hand,  and  congenial  the  choice, 
'Tis  a  call  never  ceasing  to  enjoy  and  rejoice ; 
'Tis  the  union  of  souls  approved  of  by  Heaven, 
And  treason  to  which  is  the  sin  unforgiven. 


V. 

HOME. 


"  How  pleasant  'tis  to  see 
Birds  in  their  nests  agree  !  " 
So  writes  the  children's  poet ; 


PRIMAL    TRUTHS.  55 

But  in  these  loving  words, 
Symbolled  by  nest  of  birds, 

Comes  (and  the  world  should  know  it) 
The  highest  type  of  life,  — 
The  cot,  the  man,  the  wife, 

And  joys  most  delightsome,  — 
Where,  germs  of  coming  years, 
The  rising  race  appears,  — 

'Tis  home,  —  the  Christian  home. 

Within  this  charmed  spot, 
The  rich  and  poor  man's  lot, 

All  love  is  centred  : 
Here  each  the  other  plights ; 
Here  heart  with  heart  unites, 

And  heaven  on  earth  is  entered. 


VI. 

COMMERCE. 

SOME  business  in  life  is  the  call  to  us  all, 
Whether  high  in  the  mart  or  down  in  the  stall ; 
With  ploughshare  or  needle,  with  hammer  or  pen, 
Work  in  the  kitchen  or  out  among  men. 


56  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

If  done  with  a  cheer,  and  with  right  for  its  aim, 
Success  must  attend  it,  if  riches  nor  fame,  — 
Success  that  is  highest  life's  lottery  e'er  draws, 
The    busy    world's    outward,    the    soul's    inward 
applause. 


VII. 

THE    TEACHER. 

WITH  love  in  his  heart,  and  knowledge  in  hand, 
The  teacher  goes  forth,  wise,  cheerful,  and  bland ; 
Takes  captive  at  once  the  hearts  of  the  young, 
Who  listen  and.learn  as  if  sirens  had  sung : 
The  strong  hand  of  force  is  kept  wisely  from  sight, 
While  wisdom  and  tact  are  his  weapons  of  might : 
He  toils  on  in  hope,  and  daily  grows  wise, 
As  the  tools  of  the  teacher  he  steadily  plies ; 
He  mellows  with  age,  and  lies  down  to  die, 
With  the  hope  of  reward  that  cheers  from  on  high. 


VIII. 

RELIGION. 

EELIGION,  that's  true,  hath  but  one  end  and  aim, 
The  soul's  highest  good,  or  happiness,  the  same ; 


PRIMAL    TRUTHS.  57 

Through  Purity's  eye  the  dear  Father  would  see, 
And  e'er  present  with  him,  one  in  spirit  would  be  ; 
To   him,  drawn  by  Love,  would    come  near  and 

more  near,  — 

That  Love  that  casts  out  every  vestige  of  Fear : 
These,  crowned  by  OBEDIENCE,  as  means  and  as 

test, 
Find  approval  within,  the  reward  of  the  blest. 


IX. 

THE    BIBLE. 

THE  races  are  many,  the  Religious  but  one, 
And  this  guerdon  divine  the  Hebrew  hath  won ; 
Its  life  from  the  first,  even  down  to  the  last, 
In  the  mould  of  the  Bible  is  truthfully  cast : 
In  Genesis,  Exodus,  Psalms,  Gospels  of  Grace, 
The  true  spirit  of  God  flows  out  from  this  race,  — 
In  Patriarch,  King,  in  Prophet  and  Son, 
His  Will  through  their  writings  like  golden  threads 

run ; 

Yea  !   rich  golden  threads  all  through  and  through- 
out, 
The  bases  of  truth,  the  destroyers  of  doubt : 


58  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

In  history,  in  poetry,  in  teachings  of  love, 
They  all  bear  the  impress  of  truth  from  above  : 
As  the  soul  of  the  creature  whose  image  divine 
Sees  the  hand  of  its  Maker  in  each  glowing  line, 
The  spirit  of  Goodness,  of  Justice,  and  Truth 
Imparts  to  them  all  an  imperishable  youth  : 
God's  Will   thus   disclosed  gives   a   sense  of  the 

Right, 

So  the  good  can  but  listen  and  assent  with  delight ; 
Or,  read  by  the  wicked,  so  plain  the  decree, 
That,  Conscience  awakened,  they  turn,  or  they  flee. 
No  book  but  the  Bible  is  written  like  this, 
That  seizing  the  soul  leads  it  onward  to  bliss ; 
Unveiling  those  longings,  so  deathless  and  fond, 
The  hope  of  the  soul  for  the  Life  that's  beyond. 


X. 

JESUS,  THE  SAVIOUR. 
THE  product  he  of  all  the  ages, 
And  wisest  he  of  all  the  sages  ; 
The  essence  he  of  all  the  past ; 
The  greatest  Prophet,  —  and  the  last. 
His  wisdom  was  from  God  above, 


PRIMAL    TRUTHS.  59 

And  all  compressed  in  one  word,  LOVE  : 
The  all  of  truth  man's  mind  can  span,  — 
Love,  love  to  God,  and  love  to  man  ; 

The  one  great  truth  by  Jesus  given, 

That  heaven  might  come  to  earth,  and  earth  be 
heaven. 


XI. 

OLD     AGE. 
SERENE  old  age,  the  lot  of  few, 

Is  one  of  rarest  beauty  ; 
The  gift  of  Heaven  to  crown  the  true, 

The  blissful  heritage  of  duty,  — 
Duty,  the  goal  from  first  to  last, 
And  hope  and  faith  the  sweet  repast. 


XII. 

IMMORTALITY. 

MA.N  ever  feels  he  cannot  die,  — 
The  germ  of  immortality  ; 
A  conscious  life  within  him  springs, 
And  with  it  hope  perennial  brings  ; 
So  made,  he  so  must  needs  believe, 


60  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

As  God,  who  made,  cannot  deceive. 
Doubts  brooded  long  this  mystery  o'er, 
And  gloomed  his  prospect  more  and  more 
So,  once  for  all,  to  close  the  strife, 
Christ  came  and  taught  the  future  life, 
And,  shedding  light  o'er  mortal  gloom, 
Triumphant  rose  from  out  the  tomb, 
To  prove  the  spirit's  life  to  sense, 
By  act  of  God's  omnipotence. 


XIII. 

THE    SPIRITUAL. 

THE  credulous  and  the  incredulous 
Are  types  of  mind  that  bide  with  us  : 
Here  faith  too  much,  there  not  enough  ; 
So  common  sense  gives  both  rebuff. 
MATTER  the  senses  recognize, 
But  they  for  SPIRIT  have  no  eyes. 
When  a  new  sense  to  man  is  given, 
He  then  shall  see  the  things  of  heaven, 
Those  things  unseen,  before  unknown, 
Whose  orbit  is  the  Eternal's  throne. 


IN   MEMOEIAM. 


IN   MEMORIAM. 

The  poet  laureate  of  England  has  written  many  pieces,  —  indeed,  a 
whole  volume,  "  In  Memoriam,"  —  of  one  beloved  and  lamented  friend. 
In  a  few  of  the  pages  that  follow  will  be  found  a  single  piece  to  each  of 
a  few  departed  relatives  or  friends, —  the  youthful  and  the  venerable, 
the  wise  and  the  good,  "  the  loved  and  the  lost." 


GRACE, 

DAUGHTER   OF   C.  P.  B.,  DIED   FEBRUARY,    1870. 

AH,  the  sweet  flower !  which,  as  it  grew, 
We  loved  and  cherished  for  its  sweetness,  — 

Cherished,  as  the  happy  moments  flew, 
Nor  scarcely  marked  their  silent  fleetness. 

We  knew  'twas  frail,  that  it  would  die  ; 

But  only  watched  with  joy  its  blooming,  — 
The. tints  it  caught  from  out  the  sky, 

Its  scent  the  air  around  perfuming. 


64  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

How  deep  the  joy  to  soul  and  sense, 
Through  all  its  life  to  all  imparting  ! 

Its  fragrance  more  and  more  intense, 
And  sweetest,  purest,  when  departing. 

By  angel  hands  transported  now, 

Through  heaven's  bright,  uplifted  portal, 

We'll  view  it  there,  and  humbly  bow 

To  bathe  our  souls  in  thoughts  immortal. 

"  Comfort  my  people,"  saith  the  Lord  ; 

And  ye,  my  friends,  be  comforted : 
Your  spirit-flower  is  whispering,  heard, 

"  My  home  is  heaven,  —  not  with  the  dead." 


65 


CAROLINE   C., 

DAUGHTER    OF   J.    W.,    ESQ.,    DETROIT,    1865. 

A  LITTLE  flower,  with  name  so  dear, 

Shed  fragrance  round  its  earthly  lot : 
'Twas  yesterday  it  flourished  here  ; 
To-day  'tis  not. 

Its  bud  and  blossom,  all  of  grace, 

Rich  promise  gave  to  eye  and  ear  : 
But  yesterday  it  grew  apace  ; 
To-day,  not  here. 

The  Owner  came,  and  broke  the  stem, 

And  bore  it  to  a  brighter  sphere, 
Whence  angels  whisper,  "  Ours  the  gem, 
Not  lost,  but  here. 

"  Transplanted  to  these  groves  above, 
We  guard  and  guide,  and  hold  it  dear, 
K 


66  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

And  speaks,  through  us,  these  words  of  love 
Not  lost,  but  here. 

n  With  eyes  of  faith  pierce  through  the  mist, 

And  catch  its  spirit  form  so  clear ; 
And  ever  to  our  chanting  list : 
Not  lost,  but  here." 


67 


LUCY  JANE, 

DAUGHTER   OF   J.    F.    P.,    ESQ.,    APKIL,    1866. 

THE  sunshine  of  her  early  days 
How  sweet  on  Lucy's  path  along ! 

None  knew  her  but  to  love  and  praise, 
Or  listen  to  her  life's  sweet  song. 

So  gentle,  so  refined,  so  pure, 

The  idol  of  her  parents'  home, 
No  treasured  wealth  could  seem  more  sure, 

Or  less  to  fear  of  loss  to  come. 

Child,  maiden,  wife,  her  earthly  lot, 
And  sweetly  touched  was  every  tone ; 

And  not  a  note,  or  grace,  or  rest,  forgot, 

Till  health  had  failed,  and  strength  was  gone. 

Chromatics,  —  they  must  needs  come  in, 
A  deeper,  richer  strain  to  give ; 


68  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

And  patience  then  the  heart  must  win, 
And  faith  profound  for  those  who  grieve. 

Thus  life's  a  scene  of  smiles  and  tears, 

Of  sunshine,  showers,  and  changing  gloom, 

Of  joys  and  sorrows,  hopes  and  fears, 
Of  cradle,  altar,  and  the  tomb. 

The  smiles  as  sunshine  start  the  flowers ; 

The  tears,  like  dew  and  rain,  the  root : 
Without  the  sunshine  and  the  showers, 

There  could  be  neither  growth  nor  fruit. 

The  fruit  has  ripened,  —  gathered  now, 
The  angel -reaper's  work  is  done  : 

Let  resignation  bend  us  low, 

And  solace  find  in  life  begun,  — 

The  life  on  high  !  —  no  pain,  no  tear, 
No  death,  shall  reach  or  try  us  there ; 

And  this  dear  child  shall  reappear, 
And  bloom  and  bliss  immortal  share. 


69 


MRS.  JULIA  P., 

WIFE    OF   A.    H.    W.,    .ET.    20,    DIED    1869. 

LIFE  is  a  gift,  a  gift  of  love, 
Not  all  of  earth,  but  from  above  ; 
It  comes  a  child,  and  grows  apace 
To  rounded  form  and  pretty  face : 
It  basks  beneath  a  parent's  eye, 
And  draws  from  thence  a  rich  supply ; 
It  sips,  it  quaffs  of  learned  lore, 
And  grows  in  strength  for  evermore,  — 
A  growth  of  spirit  more  than  earth, 
Prophetic  of  immortal  birth. 
And  yet,  alas  !  the  finite's  here  : 
The  body's  groan,  the  spirit's  tear  ; 
A  brittle  vase,  a  flower  of  clay, 
Admired  awhile,  and  gone  to-day. 

Our  Julia  such  !  she,  sweet-formed  bud, 
Perfect  in  form  before  us  stood  : 


70  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

Gentle,  sparkling,  cheerful,  true, 
On  earth  she  lived  with  heaven  in  view ; 
Was  infant,  maiden,  woman,  wife, 
And  rounded  thus  her  fragile  life ; 
Drank  the  rich  cup  the  Father  gave, 
Full  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave ; 
Drank  it  in  faith,  the  cross  beside, 
Resigned  her  will,  and  calmly  died ; 
And  fearless,  now,  has  ope'd  the  gate, 
Where  long  lost-friends  for  greeting  wait, 
A  mother's  face  the  first  to  see, 
And  heaven  enough  with  her  to  be  ; 
And,  gathering  round,  the  angelic  host, 
Who  taste  of  blessedness  the  most, 
Through  shining  ranks  shall  bear  her  on, 
To  joys  unknown  at  God's  bright  throne. 

Oh  weep  her  not !  her  course  is  run, 
And  left  no  work  of  life  undone  : 
Oh  weep  her  not !  her  soul  is  sealed, 
And  needs  no  more  from  sin  a  shield  : 
Weep  not  for  her,  for  she  is  blest, 
Where  love  and  thought  are  final  rest : 


IN    MEMORIAM.  71 

Weep  not  for  her,  but  strive  to  be 
As  sweet,  as  pure,  as  true,  as  she ; 
And,  looking  forth  to  worlds  afar, 
Be  hers  for  you  a  guiding  star. 


MRS.   LOUISA   B., 

WIFE   OF   F.    H.    B.,    M.D.,    DIED    1865. 

OH,  how  that  face  comes  back  to  me 
In  other  days  we  loved  to  see ! 
So  mildly  sweet,  so  sweetly  mild, 
'Twas  nature's  whisper,  "  Undefiled  !  " 

And,  fondly  gazing  there  awhile, 
Bewitching  sweet  came  dimpled  smile ; 
To  every  kindly  thought  'twas  kin, 
And  spoke  of  peace  and  joy  within. 

Listening,  the  voice  we  used  to  hear 
Comes  echoing  back  to  memory  dear, 
In  tones  so  rich,  so  soft,  so  fine, 
Its  breathings  seemed  all  but  divine. 

And  then  her  hand,  whose  loving  touch 
In  friendly  grasp  expressed  so  much, 


IN    MEMORIAM.  73 

The  old  man's  heart  renewed  with  youth, 
And  spoke  to  all  of  love  and  truth. 

In  hand  and  smile,  in  voice  and  face, 
'Tis  thus  her  living  soul  we  trace,  — 
The  earthly  casket,  richly  given, 
To  hold  within  the  pearl  of  heaven. 

Too  good  for  earth,  her  angel  came 
And  on  the  casket  wrote  her  name, 
But  took  the  pearl  of  deathless  price, 
And  bore  it  safe  to  paradise. 


74 


OLIVER  H.   S., 

DIED,    JET.   22,    AT   THE   INSANE   HOSPITAL,    1864. 

FRESH  his  form  in  memory  lingers, 
As  he  trod  the  paths  of  youth, 

Printed  there  by  those  sweet  fingers, 
Innate  kindness,  goodness,  truth. 


Flashed  his  eye  with  taste  and  beauty, 
Drinking  in  all  forms  of  art ; 

Faithful  he  to  calls  of  duty, 
With  a  warm  and  genial  heart. 


On  he  pressed  with  joy  and  gladness, 
To  the  goal  set  up  for  all ; 

But  the  gloom,  and  oh,  the  sadness, 
Blight  should  e'er  on  blossoms  fall ! 


IN    MEMORIAM.  H 

Ah  !    too  frail  the  spirit's  casket, 

Gem  within  to  hold  or  save, 
Though  friends  and  parents  bend  and  ask  it 

Earnestly  of  Him  who  gave. 

O'er,  o'er  his  mind  there  came  eclipse, 
Veiling  more  and  more  its  rays  : 

Soul  was  there,  but  oh  !  the  lips 
Presaged  the  darkly  coming  maze. 

'Gainst  its  bars  in  prison  beating, 

How  it  longed  to  be  set  free  ! 
Clothed  anew,  as  upward  fleeting, 

Seen  by  all  as  angels  see. 

Frail  the  body,  strong  the  spirit ; 

So  the  struggle  was  not  long : 
Dust  to  dust  that  all  inherit, 

Soul  to  soul's,  of  angel-throng ! 

There  his  powers,  unveiled  in  glory, 
Speak  again  in  accents  true  ; 


76  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

Listening  there  to  life's  solved  story, 
Happy  waits,  dear  friends,  for  you  ; 

Waits  in  peace  at  heaven's  own  portal, 
Calm,  uplifted,  full,  refined  : 

There  he  waits  in  bliss  immortal, 
Clothed  anew,  in  his  right  mind. 


LINES 

ON   THE   DEATH   OF    R.    W.   B.,    ESQ.,    OF   BOSTON, 
A    VALUED   FRIEND. 

GONE  !   gone  !  that  active  mind  ; 

Gone  that  faithful,  wise,  good  spirit ; 
Gone,  another  sphere  to  find, 

More  perfect  blessings  to  inherit. 

Here  it  shared  in  human  strife, 
Here  it  yearned  for  native  purity  : 

Now  it  has  eternal  life, 
And  bliss  in  all  futurity. 

Thus  to-day  the  opening  flower 
Full  of  fragrance  unexpressed, 

To-morrow,  crushed  by  dint  of  power, 
Fills  the  air  with  odors  blessed. 

Here  it  had  its  foes  and  fears, 

Here  it  suffered  much  and  deeply  : 


78  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

Now  'tis  where  there  are  no  tears, 

Where  it  lives  and  loves  most  sweetly. 

Here  it  groped  in  mental  night, 

Long  with  dreary  doubt  contended  ; 

Now  it  bathes  in  heavenly  light, 

Where  all  its  fears  and  doubts  are  ended. 

Here  it  toiled  to  aid  its  friends, 

Here  soften  woe  and  every  sorrow  : 

Now  it  toils  for  higher  ends, 

With  angel  strength  he  well  may  borrow. 

Here  it  loved  the  rapturous  song, 

Swelled  in  praise  of  God  around  us  : 

Now  it  joins  the  angelic  throng, 

To  swell  with  them  an  endless  chorus. 

Here  'twas  wrapt  in  pious  love, 

Here  enjoyed  the  mount  of  vision  : 

Now,  in  purer  realms  above, 

It  bathes  in  joys  and  bliss  Elysian. 


79 


MRS.   SARAH  AUGUSTA, 

WIFE  OF  E.   W.,   ESQ.,   DIED   SUDDENLY,    1867. 

THAT  saint  of  old,  who  "  walked  with  God,' 

How  nobly  true  his  lengthened  lot, 
In  perfect  faith  earth's  course  he  trod, 
And  then  —  "  was  not." 

"  God  took  him,"  —  took  him  to  his  rest ; 

All  trial,  trouble,  sorrow,  o'er  ; 
Gave  him,  to  dwell  in  mansions  blest, 
For  evermore. 

So  lived,  so  walked,  our  sister  here, 

No  act  of  love  or  duty  e'er  forgot ; 
Filled  to  perfection  woman's  sphere, 
And  then  w  was  not." 

God  took  her,  —  took  her  to  his  rest, 
All  cares  and  worldly  sorrows  o'er ; 


80  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

Took  her  to  dwell  in  mansions  blest,  — 
Oh  !  evermore. 

That  vital  spark,  so  bright  below, 

On  spirit- wings  must  upward  soar, 
And  "  clothed  upon  "  with  life  shall  glow 
For  evermore. 


81 


MRS.  MARY   S., 

WIDOW   OF   THE   LATE   E.    H.,    ESQ.,    DIED    1865. 

DEAR  mother  in  Israel !  thou  too  hast  fled, 
To  join  the  long  train  of  the  much-honored  dead  : 
Thy  frame  to  the  dust,  thy  soul  to  the  blest, 
Where  the  wicked  cease  troubling,  the  weary  find 
rest. 

Dear  mother  in  Israel !  the  while  thou  wert  here, 
Thou  wert  precious  to  friends,  to  thy  children  most 

dear : 

How  cheerful  and  busy  !  how  faithful,  how  kind  ! 
Thy  pleasure  in  duty  the  choicest  to  find. 

Then,  mother  in  Israel !  what  gladness  was  thine, 
When  the  lost  of  the  earth  in  rapture  did  join, 
To  give  thee  a  welcome  of  heart-glowing  love, 
To  their  home  in  the  heavens,  —  God's  kingdom 
above  ! 

6 


82  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

There  rest  thee,  dear  spirit !  there  rest  thee  in 

peace ! 

Thy  heart-burthened  cares  all  suffered  to  cease ! 
There  drink  in  the  joys  of  the  lost  ones,  new 

found ; 
And   home,   happy   home,   be   the    one   grateful 

sound  ! 


83 


EEV.  SAMUEL   BARRETT,   D.D., 

DIED  JUNE   24,    1866. 

PASTOR,  Teacher,  Parent,  Guide,  and  Friend, 

As  o'er  thy  life-like,  sainted  form  we  bend, 

We  grieve,  with  heart- struck  grief,  to   feel   and 

know 
That  e'en  the  best  must  leave  us  here  below. 

Strong  in  the  faith,  the  pulpit  for  thy  throne, 
How  winning,  glowing,  earnest  was  thy  tone  ! 
Its  charm  was  truth,  and  bore  with  mighty  sway 
Thousands  of  souls  to  seek  the  better  way. 

At  that  sweet  feast  the  gracious  Master  spread, 
With  bread  from  heaven  thy  loving  flock  was  fed  ; 
There  in  our  hearts  were  stirred  all  thoughts  divine, 
As  Christ  was  symbolled  forth  by  bread  and  wine. 


84  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

Thou  lov'dst  the  lambs,  and  loved  the  lambs  to 

lead 

To  wisdom's  flowery  fields,  in  peace  to  feed  ; 
And  they  in  turn  wouldst  gather  at  thy  knee, 
To  catch  the  kind,  approving  word  from  thee. 

With  deepest  sympathies,  the  homes  of  grief 
Roused  all  thy  latent  powers  for  their  relief; 
The  grasp  was  warm,  the  fitting  words  were  few, 
But  reached  the  bleeding  wound,  and  healed  it  too. 

With  what  a  glow  did  learning's  living  light 
Fill  thy  pure  heart  with  ever  new  delight ; 
And  as  its  torch  was  passed  from  hand  to  hand, 
Hope  smiled  anew  to  bless  thy  natal  land. 

With  wide  survey,  and  earnest,  melting  soul, 
Of  human  errors  thou  didst  grasp  the  whole ; 
And,  as  thou  couldst,  from  earliest  dawn  of  youth, 
Urged  on  the  cause  of  purest  Christian  truth. 

Deep  insight  thine  to  track  the  wastes  of  sin, 
And  back  to  right  its  victims  sought  to  win ; 


IX    MEMORIAM.  85 

Pitied  the  poor,  and  sent  forth  angels  fair, 
To  give  relief,  and  all  their  burdens  share. 

In  council  wise,  in  judgment  strong  and  clear, 
Prudent  and  calm  through  dubious  paths  to  steer, 
On  wings  of  thought  thine  influence  silent  sped, 
And  thus  to  God  and  good  opinions  led. 

At  home,  —  but  here  the  hand  and  heart  denies 
To  touch  those  tender,  loving,  home-bound  ties, 
Around  which  clustered  all  endearments  sweet, 
Their  lodgement  hallowed  in  life's  dearest  seat. 

Though  yet  in  armor,  life's  great  battle  fought, 
Thy  chosen  work  all  well  and  nobly  wrought, 
Resigned  in  faith  to  time  and  Heaven's  decree, 
Thou  gav'st  thy  soul  to  Him  who  gave  it  thee. 

But  first  a  vision  !  lo,  heaven's  gate  set  wide, 
And  angels,  beckoning,  came  to  be  thy  guide  ! 
And  then  the  curtain  fell,  —  the  goal  was  won,  — 
And  God's  own  voice  proclaimed,  "  Well  done  ! 
Well  done  ! " 


86  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

Oh  may  our  eyes  in  waking  visions  see 
How  great,  dear  saint,  thy  heavenly  bliss  must  be  ! 
And  this  one  sweet  thought  soothe  every  breast, 
Till  all  shall  share  with  thee  thy  joy  and  rest. 


87 


MRS.  ANN   HATHAWAY, 

WIFE     OF     WILLIAM     RICE,     ESQ.,     1870. 

FROM  dawn  of  life  to  latest  day, 
Hers  was  the  sweet,  the  gentle  way ; 
Sprightly,  kindly,  fond  and  mild, 
She  lived,  the  loved  and  loving  child. 
By  honored  parents  wisely  led, 
In  virtuous  paths  was  taught  to  tread  ; 
And,  as  she  grew,  her  craving  mind 
Sought  knowledge  fresh  of  every  kind, 
Of  life  below,  of  things  above, 
The  sources  deep  of  truth  and  love  ; 
Then,  like  the  Master,  strove  to  teach 
The  little  minds  within  her  reach. 
Oh,  how  they  gathered  round  her  seat, 
Her  face  and  smile  to  fondly  greet ! 
Oh,  how  they  listened  as  she  spoke, 
As  Heaven's  glad  tidings  on  them  broke ! 
Pictures  they  were  set  rich  in  gold  ! 
Yet  more  than  these  example  told, 


88  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

The  words  sunk  deep,  but  more  were  moved 

By  deeds  of  one  so  much  beloved. 

Then  came  a  change,  a  sphere  is  found 

In  which  her  feelings  all  were  bound, 

The  loving  wife,  the  faithful  friend, 

With  claims  that  life  alone  could  end. 

Oh,  how  her  cares  with  moments  grew  ! 

To  meet  them  right  how  well  she  knew  ; 

To  rule  with  love  in  woman's  sphere, 

To  make  the  home  the  spot  most  dear ; 

To  aid  the  weak,  to  nurse  with  care 

The  dear  one's  life  that  God  did  spare 

Through  years  of  weakness,  sickness,  pain, 

The  spirit's  trial,  not  in  vain. 

Patient  and  faithful,  calm  and  kind, 

Tempered  with  grace,  with  soul  refined, 

Faith  plumed  her  wings,  grew  strong  with  years, 

And  victory  gave  o'er  grief  and  fears, 

And  sweetly  thus  met  every  call, 

The  last  and  greatest,  best  of  all ; 

And  when  the  final  hour  had  come, 

She  sought  in  heaven  a  happier  home ; 

Left  earth  and  time  without  a  stain, 

In  bliss  for  evermore  to  reign. 


89 


REV.    CHARLES   J.   BOWEN, 

PASTOR   OF    THE   MT.    PLEASANT   CHURCH,    BOSTON, 
DIED   APRIL    11,    1870. 

LAST  night  in  full  vigor,  in  weakness  to-day ; 
Fresh  blooming  at  morn,  at  eve  in  decay  : 
'Tis  thus  with  the  flower,  and  thus  with  the  man, 
And  such  the  Creator's  wise  purpose  and  plan. 

Ah  I  stricken  and  gone  in  the  bloom  of  his  years, 
How  gush  from  our  eyes  the  grief-bidden  tears ! 
How  deep  are  the  sobs  of  the  aged  and  young, 
As  the  requiem  and  hymn  o'er  his  coffin  are  sung. 

How  manly  and  noble  in  features  and  form  ! 
How  courteous  in  manner,  his  feelings  how  warm  ! 
And  gifted  in  mind,  and  ready  in  speech, 
How  earnest  and  glowing  the  Gospel  to  preach  ! 

And  as  round  the  table  Christ's  followers  drew, 
Ho\v  weighty  his  words,  yet  how  tender  and  true: 


90  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

In  spirit  how  loving,  in  words  how  divine, 
As  he  broke  to  them  bread,  and  poured  forth  the 
wine  ! 

So  cheerful,  so  genial,  so  free  from  all  guile, 
The    old    sought   his    counsel,    the    youngest    his 

smile  : 

To  summons  from  sorrow  his  footsteps  how  fleet, 
And  the  claims  of  the  poor  how  ready  to  meet. 

As  the  tocsin  of  war  fell  sharp  on  his  ear, 

How  he  spake  for  his  country  without  doubting  or 

fear! 

And  obeying  the  call  that  came  from  his  chief, 
How  swiftly  he  sped  to  the  soldier's  relief! 

The  sick  how  sustained,  the  dying  how  soothed, 
As  onward  to  heaven  their  passage  he  smoothed  ! 
Those  missives  of  love,  how  many  he  wrote, 
With  a  lock  of  their  hair  enclosed  in  each  note  ! 

But  how  speak   of  his  home  !  the  spot  he  loved 

best, 
His  presence  so  loving,  so  heightening  the  zest ; 


IN    MEMORIAM.  91 

Where  treasures  the  richest,  embosomed  in  love, 
Made  his  Eden  of  earth  like  the  Eden  above. 

O  Father  of  mercies  !  send  down  of  thy  balm, 
The  dear  ones  to  soothe,  their  feelings  to  calm  : 
Let  the  spirit  of  faith  in  all  fulness  be  given, 
Till  they  with  the  lost  find  reunion  in  heaven. 


MEMORIAL   LTNES 

ON  THE  DECEASE  OF  MARY  ANN,  WIFE  OF  THEODORE 
H.  BELL,  ESQ.,  SEPT.  14,  1872. 

HER  sufferings  —  how  long  !  —  have  been  borne, 

and  are  o'er, 

And  soul,  parted  from  body,  has  fled  to  the  skies. 
We  shall  see  her  symmetrical  features  no  more, 
Nor  the  radiant  flash  of  her  soft-beaming  eyes. 

But  we  ne'er  shall  forget  when  she  came  to  us 
here, 

How  sprightly  her  manner,  yet  winsome  and  mild; 

Obedient  and  docile,  she  ne'er  cost  us  a  tear, 

And  we  took  her  and  loved  her  as  our  own  dar- 
ling CHILD. 

And  we  ne'er  shall  forget,  when  she  stood  up  as 

bride, 
And  entered  the  purlieus  of  a  sweet  wedded  life, 


IN    MEMORIAM.  93 

How  she  labored  and  loved,  with  a  well-governed 

pride, 
To  reach  the  perfections  of  Woman  and  WIFE. 

Oh,  ne'er  shall  forget,  as  years  rolled  on  their  way, 
And  each  cherished  epoch  was  changed  for  another, 
With  what  fondness  and  love  she  toiled  day  after 

day 
To  win    the    rich    guerdon    that    crowns    a  good 

MOTHER. 

We  ne'er  shall  forget  how  unselfish  and  kind 
To  all  of  her  kin,  to  the  suffering  and  poor ; 

How  "  she  did  what  she  could,"  with  a  generous 

mind, 
To  labor  for  others,  for  others  to  endure. 

And  oh !  ne'er  shall  forget  when  the  shadows  drew 

near, 

The  calmness,  the  patience,  the  fortitude  given  ; 
How  she  waited  and  listened,  without  trembling  or 

fear, 
To  catch  the  first  sounds  and  glimpses  of  heaven. 


94  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

"Bless'd  thought,"  "Happy,"  "Farewell,"  was  all 
she  could  say, 

As  she  stood  on  the  verge  of  Eternity  and  Time. 

Heavenward  her  eyes,  her  hand  waving  the  way, 

The  scene  of  the  parting,  oh,  how  sweet  and  sub- 
lime ! 

O  God  !  give  thou  comfort  to  thy  children  who 

mourn  ; 

Pour  out  of  thy  Spirit,  within  richly  to  dwell ; 
And,  saddened  and  sorrowful,  oh  aid  us  to  turn 
To    thee,  loving    Father,  "  who  all  things  doeth 

well." 


HYMNS    FOR   THE   YOUNG, 


HYMNS. 


THE   CHILD'S  MORNING  PRAYER. 

Sunday  School  Gazette,  1865. 

THY  child,  O  Father  !  thou  hast  blest 

Through  the  long  hours,  so  long,  of  darksome 
night, 

Hast  given  me  sleep,  hast  given  me  rest, 
And  brought  me  safe  to  morning's  light. 

I  thank  thee,  Lord  !  and  through  this  day 

Aid  me  to  grow  in  ways  divine,  — 
To  study,  think,  to  love,  obey, 

And  make  me  thus  a  child  of  thine. 

7 


98  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

Weak  though  I  am,  thyself  art  strong; 

Impart  of  thy  great  strength  to  me  ; 
And  if  temptations  round  me  throng, 

To  thy  sure  covert  let  me  flee. 


99 


II. 

THE   CHILD'S  EVENING  PRAYER. 

Sunday  School  Gazette,  1865. 

FATHER  in  heaven  !  another  day 
I've  passed  in  joyous,  childlike  play  ; 
Have  read,  and  mused,  but  studied  more, 
To  gain  of  knowledge  richest  store. 

Thus,  Lord,  the  day  appears  to  me ; 
But,  oh,  how  otherwise  to  thee  ! 
So  thoughtless,  wayward,  selfish,  still 
To  do  my  own,  and  not  thy  will. 

Accept,  dear  Lord,  what  se'emeth  right 
In  thy  most  gracious,  holy  sight : 
Forgive  the  wrong,  and  grant  me  rest, 
And  make  thy  child  wise,  good,  and  blest. 


100 

III. 

IMITATED  FROM  AN  ANCIENT  ENGLISH  POET. 

"  GIVE  me  thine  heart,"  so  saith  our  God, 

"  And  I'll  not  ask  for  more," 
Follow  the  path  which  Jesus  trod, 
There's  bliss  for  thee  in  store. 

"  Give  me  thine  heart,"  so  saith  our  God, 
"And  I'll  not  ask  for  more." 

Give  wicked  sports  and  pastimes  up, 

And  seek  a  nobler  goal ; 
Heave  the  last  sigh  o'er  pleasure's  cup, 
So  save  thy  deathless  soul. 

"Give  me  thine  heart,"  so  saith  our  God, 
"  And  I'll  not  ask  for  more." 

Thy  rovings  cease,  nor  longer  seek 
Where  rest  cannot  be  found  ; 


HYM^S    FOR    THE    YOUNG.  101 

Hear  the  sweet  words  the  Scriptures  speak, 
And  be  with  blessings  crowned. 

"Give  me  thine  heart,"  so  saith  our  God, 
"And  I'll  not  ask  for  more." 

Thy  viler  course,  O  sinner,  stop, 

And  strive  for  peace  once  more ; 
Let  but  one  tear  of  sorrow  drop, 
And  I'll  thy  peace  restore. 

"  Give  me  thine  heart,"  so  saith  our  God, 
"And  I'll  not  ask  for  more." 


102 

IV. 

GRATITUDE. 

COME  we  now,  and  joyful  raise 
Grateful  hymns  of  fervent  praise ; 
Infant  voices  though  they  be, 
We  would  raise  them,  God,  to  thee. 

For  the  friends  around  our  way ; 
For  the  blessed  Sabbath  day ; 
All  the  means  of  grace  and  truth, 
Blessing  us  in  early  youth. 

God  of  mercy  !  hear  us  now, 
As  before  thy  face  we  bow  : 
Let  us  heed  the  voice  of  love, 
Calling  us  to  bliss  above. 

Let  us  walk  in  virtue's  way, 
Thee  our  guide,  our  shield,  our  stay  ; 
Thy  dear  Son  our  bosom  friend, 
Life  a  school,  and  heaven  its  end. 


103 


V. 

SPRINGTIME  OF  YOUTH. 

Christian  Register,  1866. 

FRESH  in  life  as  spring's  first  flower, 
Let  us  seek  the  Lord  to  love  ; 

Catch  the  dews  of  morning's  hour, 
Dews  of  grace  from  him  above. 

As  in  nature,  flowers  and  fruit 

Come  from  seed  and  earnest  care,. 

So  the  graces  have  for  root 

Love  and  duty,  faith  and  prayer. 

See  the  bud  so  full  and  fair, 

Drinking  in  the  sun's  sweet  rays,. 

Breathing  incense  on  the  air,  — 
Incense  to  its  Maker's  praise. 


104  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

Child  of  earth  and  yet  divine, 

Seek  thy  growth  from  nobler  flame  ; 

Let  thy  life  all  flowers  outshine, 
One  sweet  hymn  to  his  high  name. 


105 
VI. 

LOVE  TO   GOD  AND  LOVE  TO  MAN. 
Christian  Register,  1866. 

COME  hither  with  feelings  all  glowing  and  warm, 
To  tread  in  the  pathway  your  Saviour  once 
trod; 

Not  coldly  and  feebly  as  if  but  in  form, 
But  childlike  as  one  whose  Father  is  God. 

Yes,  God  is  your  Father !  come,  bow  down  and 
kneel, 

And  worship  him  truly  in  reverence  and  love  : 
The  whole  of  your  nature  his  majesty  feel, 

Within  and  around  you,  both  here  and  above. 

And  man  is  your  brother !  then  up  and  be  doing, 
Be  gentle  and  generous,  be  just  and  discreet ; 

Vain  thoughts  be  forbidden,  all  evil  eschewing, 
Be  eyes  for  the  blind  ones,  for  the  halting  have 
feet. 


106  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

So  march  on  to  victory  o'er  all  earthly  foes, 

With  love  for  your  helmet,  your  sword,  and 
your  shield ; 

Be  patient  with  man,  and  be  kind  to  his  woes, 
And  never  to  tempters  your  innocence  yield. 


107 


VII. 
WORDS  AND  LIFE  OF  JESUS. 

Christian  Register,  1867. 

WHEN  the  Saviour's  words  are  read, 
How  they  stir  the  inmost  mind  ! 

How  the  youthful  soul  they  feed  ! 
What  new  sense  of  love  to  find  ! 

How  they  make  us  loathe  all  sin, 
How  to  love  the  good  and  true ; 

How  to  cleanse  the  fount  within, 
All  his  will  to  know  and  do ! 

Saviour  !  what  a  life  was  thine  ! 

All  temptations  how  withstood  ! 
All  thy  marvels  how  divine  ! 

Ever  wise,  and  doing  good  ! 


108  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

Blessed  Jesus  !  sinless,  pure, 
Help  us  all  to  live  as  well ; 

Bitter  crosses  to  endure, 

Songs  of  praise  and  joy  to  swell. 


109 


VIII. 

THE  DOMINION  OF  TRUTH. 

Christian  Register,  1866. 

THE  spotless  Jesus  loved  the  Truth, 

And  lived  it  every  hour  ; 
Example  this  for  every  youth, 

And  one  of  mighty  power. 

'Twas  this  o'er  all  his  motives  reigned 
He  scorned  to  think  a  lie ; 

No  act  deceptive  ever  feigned, 
But  rather  chose  to  die. 

They  say  to  him,  "  Art  thou  a  king  ?" 
He  answered,  "  Thou  say'st  so  : 

Hither  I  came  the  truth  to  bring, 
Its  seed  in  power  to  sow." 


110  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

'Twas  sown  by  him,  —  it  sprang  to  light, 
And  o'er  the  earth  has  spread 

A  kingdom  now  of  wondrous  might, 
And  he  its  glorious  head. 

Be  each  of  us  its  champion  here, 

To  peril  all  for  truth  ; 
Nothing  in  life  can  be  more  dear, 

Nor  brighter  crown  for  youth. 


Ill 

IX. 

FILIAL  AFFECTION. 

LOVE  thy  father,  love  thy  mother, 
This  of  earth  the  dearest  tie  ; 

Range  through  nature,  there's  no  other 
Nearer  to  the  heart  can  lie. 

But,  above,  a  loving  spirit 

Watches  o'er  thy  wayward  way; 

Blessings  all  from  him  inherit, 
More  than  we  can  e'er  repay. 

He  it  is,  the  Heavenly  Father, 
Dearer  far  than  earthly  friend ; 

Let  us  round  his  altar  gather, 
Up  to  him  our  praises  send. 

From  the  heart  all  pure  and  loving, 
Let  them  rise  an  incense  sweet ; 

All  our  filial  feelings  moving, 
Lay  them  at  his  mercy-seat. 


112 


X. 

THE   BALM  IN  GILEAD. 

Christian  Register,  1868. 

THEKE  is  no  child  without  a  grief, 
Nor  one  who  has  no  pain ; 

"Where  shall  it  go  to  find  relief, 
And  ease  and  comfort  gain  ? 

Not  to  the  haunts  of  noisy  play, 
Or  paths  of  tempting  sin ; 

There  is  a  better,  surer  way, 
The  crown  of  peace  to  win. 

In  patience  find  one  constant  friend, 

And  trust  in  God  above  ; 
The  darkest  night  must  have  an  end, 

And  he  afflicts  in  love. 


HYMNS    FOR   THE    YOUNG.  113 

In  contemplation  seek  for  aid, 

And  muse  on  heavenly  things ; 
The  soul  most  tried  is  not  afraid, 

If  hope  within  it  springs. 

Dwell  on  the  sufferings  he  endured, 

Who  wrought  salvation's  plan  : 
Whose  pain  and  grief  our  peace  secured, 

And  calmly  died  for  man. 


114 


XI. 

TEMPERANCE. 

Christian  Register,  1886. 

THERE  is  a  voice  that  speaks  to  thee, 
Stand  not  on  danger's  brink ; 

With  fleetest  step  the  tempter  flee, 
Abstain,  abstain  from  drink. 

Be  early  strong,  be  early  wise, 

Turn  off  your  thoughts,  away  your  eyes, 

The  safest  is  who  soonest  flies, 
From  which  the  boldest  shrink. 

Let  not  the  cup  come  near  thy  lip, 
'Twill  lure  thee  from  thy  goal ; 

Nor  dare  its  baneful  contents  sip,  — 
'Tis  poison  to  the  soul. 

'Twill  mar  thy  face,  'twill  blur  thy  mind, 

'Twill  make  thy  heart  morose,  unkind ; 

Thy  moral  nature  wholly  blind, 
Nor  leave  one  feature  whole. 


HYMNS    FOR    THE    YOUNG.  115 

Touch  not  the  bowl,  taste  not  the  wine ; 

'Tis  easy  to  begin ; 
Let  but  your  choice  to  this  incline, 

And  soon  'twill  end  in  sin, 
As  little  boats  that  venture  most, 
On  rocky  coasts,  if  tempest-tost, 
Are  doomed  the  soonest  to  be  lost, 

By  treacherous  waves  drawn  in. 

Then  turn  your  eyes  to  wisdom's  way, 
Whose  paths  are  paths  of  peace ; 

Be  mindful  of  a  coming  day, 

When  years  and  time  shall  cease. 

Let  temperance  be  your  constant  guide, 

Be  self-control  your  honest  pride ; 

Then  sweet  your  life  away  shall  glide, 
And  crowned  at  last  with  bliss. 


116 


XII. 
INVITATION  TO  THE   SAVIOUR. 

Is  there  here  no  child  to-day, 
Who  will  leave  his  sports  and  play, 
Bring  his  heart  to  Jesus'  shrine, 
Saying  thus,  "  Let  me  be  thine  "  ? 

Is  there  none  so  brave  within, 
Brave  enough  to  give  up  sin  ; 
Give  up  pestering,  give  up  tears, 
So  be  free  from  frowns  and  fears  ? 

Give  up  falsehood,  yield  the  will,  — 
Be  obedient,  kindly,  still? 
Thus  secure  by  winning  ways 
Love  of  friends,  and  happy  days  ? 

Surely,  yes,  there's  many  a  one, 
Seeking  how,  will  see  'tis  done ; 


HYMNS    FOR    THE    YOUNG.  117 

So  from  every  fault  set  free, 
In  coming  years  shall  better  be. 

Be  like  Jesus,  holy  child, 
Gracious,  harmless,  undefiled ; 
Seeking  wisdom,  peace,  and  love, 
Gems  to  make  them  blest  above. 

Child,  be  wise,  for  now's  the  time 
On  your  course  to  start  sublime ; 
Learning  this,  that  step  the  first 
Leads  to  good,  or  to  the  worst. 


118 


XIII. 

CHRISTMAS. 

Sunday  School  Gazette,  1870. 

No  vocal  sound  of  joy  or  love, 

Of  cricket,  babe,  or  bird, 
But  one  from  regions  far  above, 

This  morning  Shepherds  heard. 

Around,  about,  there  shone  a  light, 

That  glorified  the  earth ; 
They  heard  and  marvelled  with  delight 

Of  Christ's  mysterious  birth. 

And  gazing  up  in  faith  and  fear, 

A  heavenly  host  was  seen, 
Who  sang  this  message  calm  and  clear, 

"Peace  on  earth,  good- will  to  men." 


HYMNS    FOR    THE    YOUNG.  119 

This  song  repeat,  nor  let  it  cease 

While  strife  and  sin  remain  ; 
Work  for  the  things  that  make  for  peace, 

Till  love  has  perfect  reign. 


120 


XIV. 

SONG  OF  PRAISE. 

COME,  let  us  join  in  praise, 
In  these  our  forming  days, 

And  evermore ; 
Around  his  altar  draw, 
Learn  here  his  holy  law, 
And  filled  with  love  and  awe, 

Him  God  adore. 


Dismissing  care  and  play, 
Praise  him  this  sacred  day, 

With  loving  joy ; 
Praise  him  who  formed  the  mind 
Gave  power  to  love  our  kind  ; 
And  joy  in  good  to  find 

Our  blest  employ. 


HYMNS    FOR    THE    YOUNG. 

Praise  him  for  home  and  friends, 
That  God  so  kindly  sends, 

Our  lot  to  cheer  : 
Praise  him  for  learning's  light, 
Which  puts  with  shame  to  flight 
Dark  superstition's  night, 

The  bigot's  sneer. 

Praise  him,  that  while  in  youth, 
To  Jesus,  fount  of  truth, 

We  all  are  led  : 
Praise  him  for  marvels  done, 
By  him,  his  blessed  son, 
Who,  when  the  crown  was  won, 

Rose  from  the  dead. 

Praise  him  when  storms  shall  lower, 
For  that  sustaining  power 

To  look  on  high ; 
For  him,  our  hope  in  death, 
Who  to  his  followers  saith,  — 
He  that  in  me  hath  faith, 

Shall  never  die. 


122 


XV. 

TRUST  IN  THE  HEAVENLY  FRIEND. 

Sunday  School  Gazette,  1869. 

COME,  now,  in  youthful  days, 
As  time  is  gliding  : 

Strong  be  our  trust  in  him, 
The  All-abiding ; 

In  him,  the  same  to-day ; 

In  him,  the  same  alway ; 

The  same,  with  gracious  sway, 
Our  footsteps  guiding. 

No  sparrow  falls  unseen, 

Swiftly  though  flying ; 

No  grief  escapes  his  eye, 

When  we  are  sighing; 

'Tis  he  our  joy  bestows  ; 

He  pities  all  our  woes ; 

And  free  his  mercy  flows, 
As  we  are  dying. 


HYMNS    FOR    THE    YOUNG.  123 

Come,  then,  in  youthful  days, 

As  time  is  gliding ; 
Here  be  our  faith  made  sure, 

He  strength  supplying. 
Take  we  his  loving  hand, 
And,  as  a  Christian  band, 
For  truth  and  duty  stand, 

On  him  relying. 


OCCASIONAL    AND    SPECIAL. 


HYMNS. 


r. 


Written  for  the  "New  North  Musical  Society,"  and  sung  at  the  Neio 

North  Church,  February  22,  1814,  public  and  .general 

Thanksgiving  Day,  for  the  return  of  Peace. 

JEHOVAH  on  the  guilty  frowned, 

And  spake  the  avenging  hour ; 
The  trump  of  war  was  heard  around, 

All  nations  felt  its  power. 

The  shock  of  arms,  the  din  of  war 

Resounded  o'er  the  earth ; 
Here  sad  defeat,  there  victory's  car, 

Alternate  woe  and  mirth. 

Deep  drenched  in  gore,  and  weak  with  fight, 
They  bid  their  battles  cease ; 


AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

Acknowledge  wrong ;  affirm  the  right, 
And  seek  the  God  of  Peace. 

First  Europe  swells  the  sacred  notes, 
And  calms  war's  angry  roar ; 

Soon  o'er  the  deep  it  sweetly  floats, 
And  greets  Columbia's  shore. 

The  olive-branch  triumphant  waves  ! 

Joy  beams  on  every  face ; 
Love  lifts  our  hearts  to  Him  who  saves 

From  danger  and  disgrace  ! 

Then  let  our  thanks  and  songs  arise, 

A  holy  incense  pure ; 
And  as  they  reach  the  upper  skies, 

Make  our  atonement  sure. 


129 


II. 

For  the  opening  of  a  "  Home  for  Aged  and  Indigent  Females,"  1850. 

OUR  Father,  Helper,  Guide,  and  Friend, 
On  thee  for  all  things  we  depend  ; 
In  joy,  in  health,  in  sickness,  age, 
In  life's  fair  morn,  in  life's  last  stage. 


And  now  to  thee  in  faith  we  come, 
To  dedicate  this  widows'  home  ; 
For  thou  hast  promised,  God,  to 
The  widow  and  the  fatherless. 


Lord  !  with  thine  aid  we'd  open  here 
A  covert  for  thy  stricken  deer  ; 
A  refuge  for  the  chastened  heart, 
As  one  by  one  their  friends  depart. 

Here  may  they  come,  in  peace  to  spend 

The  last  best  moments  thou  shalt  lend  : 

9 


130  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

Here  friendship's  smile  and  woman's  tear 
Be  theirs,  to  comfort,  guide,  and  cheer. 

And  when  relieved  from  fears  and  cares, 
Let  this  experience  still  be  theirs : 
"  I  have  been  young,  but  now  am  old, 
Still  thou,  O  God,  the  meek  uphold." 


131 


III. 

For  a  Religious  Festival,  1861. 

RAISE  now  an  anthem  high, 
Band  of  a  sacred  tie, 

Church  broad  and  free  ; 
Free  to  use  Reason  right, 
Down  superstition  smite, 
Truth  spread  in  love  and  light, 

That  all  may  see  ! 

Faith  rears  her  altar  here, 
Whose  claims  we  all  revere, 

With  reason  decked ; 
Lead  we  that  noble  band, 
Wide-spread  throughout  our  land, 
Who  on  this  platform  stand 

In  Christ  erect. 

Bigots  may  rage  and  fume, 
But  truth  must  yet  illume 

The  world's  dark  mind. 


132  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

Old  creeds  must  melt  away ; 
Home's  monkish  throne  decay; 
Fagots  no  more  dismay, 
Nor  favor  find. 

High  sweeps  the  mountain  wave, 
God's  ark  of  truth  to  save, 

Light  at  its  prow  ! 
Ours  be  the  courage  high, 
To  dare,  to  do,  to  die, 
Reason  with  faith  to  ally, 

God  help  us  now  ! 

Banned  by  the  Church  or  State, 
Mark  of  the  bigot's  hate, 

Still  stand  we  strong ! 
True  to  the  one  above, 
True  to  Christ's  claims  of  love, 
True  to  the  Spirit-Dove, 

Victory  ere  long  ! 


133 


IV. 


Hymn  of  Welcome  on  the  Return  of  Rev.  A.  P.  Putnam  from  a  Tour 

in  Europe.     Sung  by  the  Choir  of  Mt.  Pleasant 

Church,  September,  1863. 


PASTOR,  parted  long  from  friends, 
Homeward  now  his  footstep  bends  : 
Sails  the  wide  Atlantic  o'er, 
Touches  now  his  native  shore ; 
Guided  safely  all  the  way, 
Meets  his  people  here  to-day ! 
We  in  gladsome  spirit  come, 
Give  him  -welcome,  welcome  home  ! 

Thanks,  O  God,  for  all  thy  grace, 
As  he  sped  from  place  to  place ; 
As  new  peoples  met  his  gaze, 
Works  of  art  that  challenged  praise ; 
As  he  stood  on  Holy  Land, 
Scenes  of  wonder  strange  and  grand ! 


134  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

Through  all  these  in  safety  come, 
Him  we  welcome,  welcome  home  ! 

From  the  desert,  from  the  plain, 
From  the  ocean's  surging  main, 
From  the  old  to  all  that's  new, 
From  the  slavish  to  the  true ; 
Raised  from  sickness,  kindly  spared, 
All  the  dangers  friendship  shared, 
Here  in  health  our  Pastor  come, 
Welcome,  welcome,  welcome  home  ! 

War  its  onward  march  has  kept, 
Braves  have  fallen,  and  mothers  wept 
Lovely  ones  have  passed  away, 
All  too  good  on  earth  to  stay : 
Sorrow,  trial,  pain,  and  care, 
Others  have  been  called  to  bear ; 
Sympathizing  Pastor,  come, 
Welcome,  and  thrice  welcome  home  ! 

As  the  months  have  slowly  sped, 
Thanks  we  gave  that  we  were  fed 


OCCASIONAL    AND    SPECIAL.  135 

Here,  from  words  in  wisdom  wrought, 
Warm  in  feeling,  rich  in  thought ; 
Now  we  thank  thee,  God  of  Power, 
For  this  joyous,  happy  hour, 
When  our  own  dear  Pastor  come, 
We  can  give  him,  —  Welcome  Home  ! 


136 


V. 


Written  for,  and  sung  at  the  Installation  of  the  Rev.  C.  J.  Bowen,  as 
Pastor  of  Mt.  Pleasant  Church,  September,  1865. 


IN  ancient  times  the  Spirit  came 
In  burning  bush  and  forked  flame ; 
But  now  it  needs  no  other  sign 
Than  glowing  hearts  for  all  mankind. 

Lord  !  moved  thereby,  thy  servant  stands, 
To  seek  once  more  approving  hands, 
To  cheer  him  on  in  works  of  love, 
As  spirit-taught  by  Christ  above. 

Long  may  thy  servant  watch  and  wait 
At  this  re-opened,  heavenly  gate  ; 
And  as  the  many  enter  in, 
Be  angel-tongued  their  souls  to  win. 


OCCASIONAL    AND    SPECIAL.  137 

Lord  !  keep  him,  bless  him,  aid  him  here 
In  all  the  works  of  this  new  sphere ; 
And,  toiling  thus  in  faith  and  zeal, 
May  many  souls  his  labors  seal. 


138 


VI. 


PARTING     HYMN. 

Written  for  the  "  Channing    Church,"   Newtonville,   Mass.,  on  the 

Resignation  and  Departure  of  their  Pastor,  Rev.  E.  J.  Young, 

for  kis  new  Position  as  Professor  of  the  Divinity 

School,  Cambridge,  Mass. 

O  FATHER  !  called  this  bond  to  break, 

Which  long  has  bound  us  here, 
We  come,  a  parting  leave  to  take 

Of  him,  our  Pastor  dear. 
We've  met  him  here  to  watch  and  pray, 

To  feast  on  things  divine ; 
In  love  together  trod  the  way, 

Through  days  of  Auld  Lang  Syne. 

Through  days  of  Auld  Lang  Syne,  &c. 

How  precious  now  those  days  we  feel, 

How  blest  to  every  heart ! 
Bound  each  to  each  with  hooks  of  steel, 

Till  hard  it  is  to  part : 


OCCASIONAL    AND    SPECIAL.  139 

We've  met  in  joy,  we've  mingled  tears, 

The  cross  our  mystic  sign  ; 
And  one  were  all  our  hopes  and  fears, 

In  days  of  Auld  Lang  Syne. 

In  days  of  Auld  Lang  Syne,  &c. 

But  now  has  come  the  bitter  cup, 

That  rends  this  tender  tie  ; 
It  calls  our  Pastor  higher  up, 

But  not,  O  God,  to  die : 
His  gifts  and  graces,  learning,  powers, 

Are  still  as  ever  thine  : 
The  loss,  the  saddening  loss,  is  ours, 

Those  days  of  Auld  Lang  Syne. 

Those  days  of  Auld  Lang  Syne,  &c. 

But  go,  brave  Soldier  of  the  Cross, 

And  do  the  work  of  God ; 
While  we  as  bravely  bear  the  loss, 

Sow  thou  the  seed  abroad  : 
Of  doubting  souls  our  pulpits  tire, 

And  ask  for  sons  divine,  — 


140  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

Those  giant  sons  with  souls  of  fire, 
Like  those  of  Auld  Lang  Syne. 

Like  those  of  Auld  Lang  Syne,  &c. 

Adieu  !  adieu  !  we'll  fondly  bear 

Thy  words  to  memory  dear, 
And  pray  the  Father's  tender  care, 

To  bless  thy  new-gained  sphere. 
Our  thoughts  and  thanks  shall  with  thee  go, 

And  be  God's  blessing  thine ; 
May  heaven  at  last  its  crown  bestow, 

For  days  of  Auld  Lang  Syne. 
For  days  of  Auld  Lang  Syne  so  dear, 

For  days  of  Auld  Lang  Syne, 
May  heaven  at  last  its  crown  bestow, 

For  days  of  Auld  Lang  Syne. 


141 


VII. 

Written  for  and  sung  at  the  Installation  of  the,  Rev.  C.  C.  Carpenter, 

as  Pastor  of  the  Mt.  Pleasant  Church,  Boston  Highlands, 

December  1,  1870. 

How  beautiful  on  mountain  height, 
The  feet  of  him  who  comes  to  bring 

To  thirsting  souls  the  Gospel  light, 

Of  peace  and  hope  and  joy  the  Spring, 

And  with  the  powers  which  God  hath  given, 

To  plead  the  cause  of  truth  and  heaven. 

A  grateful  church,  O  God,  we  send, 
To  thank  thee  for  thy  gift  of  love,  — 

For  him,  the  teacher  thou  dost  send, 
To  fill  the  place  of  one  above ; 

To  heal  our  wound,  our  hearts  to  cheer, 

And  make  thy  service  yet  more  dear. 

Fill  thou  his  soul  with  love  and  light, 
Thy  Holy  Spirit  freely  give  ; 


142  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

Help  him  to  work  with  sacred  might, 

And  teach  us,  Christ-like,  how  to  live ; 
To  live  like  Him,  the  Master  true, 
In  all  we  feel,  and  think,  and  do. 

Oh  touch  his  tongue  with  holy  fire, 
To  lift  us  to  the  heights  on  high : 

The  Saviour's  trust  by  faith  inspire, 
And  teach  us,  Christ-like,  how  to  die. 

Himself  a  beacon-light  to  shine, 

In  life,  and  death,  and  ever  thine. 


OCCASIONAL    AND    SPECIAL. 


H  Y  M  N. 


NATIONAL    AND    PATRIOTIC. 


AMERICA  !  America ! 

Thy  place  'mid  nations  won, 
The  welkin  rings,  hurrah  !  hurrah  ! 

Thy  States  be  ever  ONE. 

Victorious  o'er  every  foe, 
Thy  Union  strong  and  free, 

Strike  boldly  every  future  blow 
For  Law  and  Liberty. 

Oh  precious  product  of  the  mind, 
Thy  Constitution  stands  ! 

Beneath  it  all  protection  find, 
And  hope  for  other  lands. 


144  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

As  treason  rears  its  hydra  head, 

However  masked  its  cause, 
Out  every  spark  of  faction  tread, 

And  vindicate  the  laws. 

Thy  flag,  tri-gemmed,  shall  flaunt  the  air, 

And  safety  give  to  all ; 
Till  every  soul  leap  up,  and  swear 

Beneath  its  folds  to  fall. 

Ride  on  !  ride  on  !  in  grandeur  great ; 

Be  ONE  at  home,  —  abroad  ; 
While  education  trains  the  STATE, 

Be  strong,  thy  trust  in  GOD. 


EVANGELICAL    AND    RELIGIOUS. 


10 


HYMNS. 


;  How  beautiful  upon  the  mountains  are  the  feet  of  him  who  bringeth 
good  tidings;  that  publisheth  peace."  —  ISA.  lii.  7. 

How  beautiful  the  herald  stands 

On  mountain  lifted  high  ! 
Who  brings,  inspired,  for  all  the  lands, 

A  message  from  the  sky. 

How  glad  his  wondrous  tidings  are  ! 

How  deep  and  loud  they  swell ! 
On  Spirit-wings  they  spread  afar, 

Their  influence  who  can  tell  ? 

They  wake  the  dreaming  sleeper  up, 
They  cure  the  deaf  and  blind  ; 


148  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

They  dash  to  earth  the  tempter's  cup, 
And  flood  with  light  the  mind. 

Diviner  still  their  matchless  power, 
They  give  the  sinner  peace  ; 

They  lift  the  soul  in  death's  dark  hour 
To  joys  that  ne'er  shall  cease. 

How  beauteous  on  the  mountain  there  ! 

How  sweet  his  heaven-toned  voice  ! 
May  we  his  presence  ever  share, 

His  path  our  life-long  choice. 


149 


II. 


SERMON    ON    THE    MOUNT. 


"And  seeing  the  multitudes,  he  went  up  into  the  mountain;  and 

when  he  had  sat  down,  his  disciples  came  to  him.    And  he 

opened  his  mouth  and  taught  them."  —  MATT.  v.  1. 

BLEST  Mount !  from  whence  the  Saviour  spoke, 
.  And  cast  o'er  earth  a  flood  of  light ; 
The  rusty  chains  of  error  broke, 
And  put  the  hosts  of  sin  to  flight ! 

Salt  of  the  earth  !  ye  good,  rejoice  ! 

The  light  of  men  !  oh  hide  it  not ! 
But  send  forth  truth  with  sweet-tongued  voice, 

Oh,  henceforth,  ne'er  to  be  forgot. 

In  other  days  the  sages  taught, 

"  Thou  shalt  not  kill  thy  fellow  man  ;  " 

"  But  I  the  higher  truth  hath  brought, 
Anger's  red  flame  thou  shalt  not  fan." 


150  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

"  Seek  for  the  inner  springs  of  life  : 
By  word  nor  act  irreverence  teach  ; 

Root  out  the  cause  of  woes  and  strife, 
Be  yea  and  nay  your  simple  speech. 

"  Should  thy  right  hand  or  thy  right  eye 
Suggest,  allure,  or  lead  astray, 

Better  these  gifts  thyself  deny, 

Than  lose  thy  soul  in  sin's  dark  way. 

"  Revenge  in  all  its  forms  abjure, 
Forgiving  be,  with  humble  mien  ; 

Better  all  wrongs  and  scoffs  endure, 

Than,  side  by  side,  with  vengeance  seen.' 


151 


III. 

THE     BEATITUDES. 

;  Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit,  for  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 
MATT.  v.  3. 

YEA,  blessed  are  the  poor, 

In  spirit  meekly  bowed ; 
Their  step  on  earth  is  calm  and  sure, 

Their  claim  to  heaven  allowed. 

And  blessed  they  who  mourn, 

Through  sin  and  sorrow  led ; 
Though  hard  the  lesson  they  must  learn, 

They  shall  be  comforted. 

And  they  whose  hunger  strong, 

Plead  not  to  be  denied  ; 
For  righteousness  and  truth  who  long, 

They  shall  be  satisfied. 


152  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

And  blest  the  pure  in  heart, 
Their  passions  all  subdued  ; 

In  mirrors  richer  than  of  art, 
Shall  see  reflected,  God. 


153 
IV. 

THE  SAME.    Matt.  v.  9. 

BLEST  are  the  sons  of  peace, 
Whose  love  is  deep  and  broad  : 

Their  silent  conquests  never  cease, 
And  children  are  of  God. 

And,  oh,  the  merciful ! 

How  greatly  they  are  blest : 
Mercy  with  fountain  ever  full, 

Returns  it  to  their  breast. 

More  blest  than  all,  the  ones 
Whom  men  revile  and  slay ; 

They  are  of  God  the  chosen  sons, 
And  heaven  their  rich-paved  way. 

Rejoice,  and  be  ye  glad  ! 

For  your  reward  is  great : 
The  prophet's  story,  grand  though  sad, 

Prefigures  but  your  fate. 


154 


V. 

CHRISTIAN     DUTIES. 
ROMANS,  chap.  xii. 

THE  Lord  makes  known  his  will. 
Which  man  must  needs  fulfil ; 

'Tis  duty  here : 
Love  is  the  vital  source, 
Opening  the  righteous  course 
To  put  his  laws  in  force, 

In  every  sphere. 

Affectioned  he  must  be, 
Evil  abhor  and  flee, 

And  cleave  to  good  : 
In  honor,  friends  prefer  ; 
No  work  of  life  defer ; 
Fervid  the  heart  must  stir 

With  gratitude. 


EVANGELICAL    AND    RELIGIOUS.  155 

Patience  in  woe  his  choice, 
He  must  in  hope  rejoice ; 

Instant  in  prayer : 
The  wants  of  saints  relieve  ; 
With  open  doors  receive, 
And  succor  freely  give 

To  sons  of  care. 

Nor  e'er,  too  much  elate, 
To  men  of  low  estate 

Must  condescend. 
Meet  mind  with  candid  mind ; 
To  self  be  wisely  blind ; 
Nor  wrong  pay  back  in  kind 

That  men  intend. 

Things  honest  must  provide ; 
Make  peace  his  constant  guide ; 

Revenge  abjure : 
Feed  full  his  hungry  foe, 
To  quench  his  thirst  not  slow, 
And,  conquering  evil  so, 

Of  heaven  make  sure., 


156 


VI. 

"  Hear,  0  Israel:  The  Lord  our  God  is  one  Lord."  —  DEUT.  vi.  4. 

O  ISRAEL,  hear !  thy  God  is  One, 
The  greatest,  wisest,  and  the  best : 

He  is  thy  God,  and  he  alone, 
God  over  all,  forever  blest. 

He  saith,  w  I  am  that  which  I  am, 

The  Holy  One  of  Israel ;  " 
In  hiding  power  from  Teman  came,  * 

In  brightness  clothed,  Invisible. 

God  is  our  Father  !  sweetest  name 

That  men  or  angels  ever  use, 
In  tenderest  tones  from  Jesus  came, 

And  through  all  hearts  should  love  diffuse. 

And  he  our  God  a  Spirit  is,f 

Pervading  matter,  mind,  and  space  : 

*  Hab.  iii.  3.  t  John  iv.  24. 


EVANGELICAL    AXD    RELIGIOUS.  157 

Omnipotence,  Omniscience,  his, 

And  mercy,  wisdom,  truth,  and  grace. 

He  is  the  Word,  the  Logos,  he 

By  whom  all  worlds  and  souls  were  made  : 
He  spake,  "  no  other  God  with  me,"  * 

And  all  in  light  and  love  arrayed. 

And  *'  God  is  Love  ! "  oh  blessed  word, 
To  touch  the  heart  of  erring  man  ; 

From  heaven  it  came,  on  earth  'tis  heard, 
And  gleams  through  all  Creation's  plan. 

Yes,  God  is  One,  there's  none  beside  ! 

Is  wisdom,  spirit,  truth,  and  love  ; 
Then  let  our  faith  in  him  abide, 

The  light  of  life,  to  life  above. 

*  Deut.  xxx.  39. 


158 


VII. 

"Behold  the  Lamb  of  God."  —John  i.  24. 

How  sweet,  how  gentle,  were  the  tones 
Of  him,  the  Christ,  whom  we  adore  ! 

"  Come  unto  me,"  to  wearied  ones  ; 
To  Penitence,  "Go,  sin  no  more." 

% 

How  calm,  subdued,  and  firm  he  spoke, 
When  he  revealed  his  power  divine ; 

'Twas  "Peace  be  still,"  as  tempests  broke, 
Or,   "God,  thy  will  be  done,  not  mine." 

Or,  as  he  clothed  those  truths  anew, 

"  Love  God  with  heart,  and  soul,  and  mind, 

And  love,  as  well,  thy  neighbor  too," 

'Twas  "  Way,  and  Truth,  and  Life  "  to  find. 

But  when  aroused  by  wicked  men, 
Perverse,  deceitful,  full  of  hate, 


EVANGELICAL    AND    RELIGIOUS.  159 

His  words,  oh,  how  indignant  then,  — 
"  Woe,  woe  ! "  and  left  them  to  their  fate. 

Yet  counselled  still,  besought  and  pled, 
Their  wills  to  change,  their  hearts  renew  ; 

"  Father  !  "  he  dying,  pitying,  said, 

"  Forgive  !  they  know  not  what  they  do." 

What  blending  here  of  strength  and  grace, 
To  vindicate  God's  finished  plan  ! 

The  human  to  divine  gives  place, 
The  portraiture  of  perfect  man. 


160 


VIII. 

;  I  am  the  door,  if  any  one  enter  through  me,  he  will  be  saved. 
JOHN  x.  10. 

THE  world,  from  light  divine  shut  out, 

Was  like  a  cavern  drear ; 
Around  was  ignorance,  fear,  and  doubt, 

But  nothing  heavenward  clear. 

God  was  a  myth,  or  sculptured  stone, 

Or  draped  in  earthly  robe ; 
Man  walked  in  sorrow  all  alone, 

The  grave  his  last  abode. 

But  Jesus  opened  wide  the  door, 

And  light  came  streaming  in  ; 
Then  was  the  reign  of  darkness  o'er, 

And  crushed  -the  power  of  sin. 

He  made  the  living  Father  known, 
His  kingdom  full  of  grace  ; 


EVANGELICAL    AND    RELIGIOUS.  161 

Love  as  the  substance  of  his  throne, 
And  mercy  for  our  race. 

The  sovereign  cure,  Repentance,  brought, 

By  which  the  soul  to  save ; 
Confirmed  the  hope,  long  vainly  sought, 

Of  life  beyond  the  grave. 

O  door  of  God  !  flung  open  wide, 

May  all  find  entrance  there  ; 
While  here  be  Christ,  our  light  and  guide, 

At  last  his  kingdom  share. 


11 


IX. 

I  am  come  that  they  might  have  life,  and  that  they  might  have 
it  more  abundantly."  —  JOHN  x.  10. 

OH,  what  a  sacrifice  was  made 
When  Jesus  chose  to  die  for  sin  ; 

Gave  his  own  life,  the  ransom  paid, 
That  we  eternal  life  might  win. 

The  inward  life,  the  life  of  love ; 

Not  that  poor  life  so  many  live, 
But,  self  forgetting,  seeks  above 

The  life  that  he  alone  can  give. 

O  Son  of  God  !  through  woes  and  strife 
Thou  gavest  thy  life  to  set  us  free, 

That  we  might  gain  the  life  of  life, 
And  have  it  more  abundantly. 

O  Father  !  hear  our  earnest  prayer, 
That  his  meek  death  be  not  in  vain  ; 

But  may  we  all  his  sufferings  share, 
The  .everlasting  life  to  gain. 


163 


X. 

"  I  am  the  true  vine."  —  JOHN  xv.  1-10. 

JESUS,  to  his  followers  speaking, 
Wisely  said,  "  I  am  the  Vine  :  " 

"  So,  your  highest  welfare  seeking, 
Grafted  be,  and  ye  are  mine. 

"  If  the  tree  no  burden  beareth, 
It  must  cumber  not  the  ground ; 

And  a  fate  no  better  fareth, 

If  its  fruit's  not  rich  and  sound. 

"  Joined  to  me  it  gains  rich  savor 
From  the  flow  of  vital  life, 

Thus  alone  can  gain  the  favor, 
Kichest  bloom  with  fruitage  rife. 

"  Vine  and  branch,  when  thus  united, 
Yield  the  fruits  of  faith  and  love  : 

Then  redeemed,  my  word  so  plighted, 
Peace  below,  and  joy  above." 


164 


XL 


1  These  words  spake  Jesus,  and  lifted  up  his  eyes  to  heaven. 
JOHN  xvii.  1. 

HE  prayed  !  with  eyes  uplifted,  prayed, 
As  on  that  holy  ground  he  trod  \ 

By  every  deep  emotion  swayed, 

He  prayed  to  his  dear  Father,  God. 

How  tender,  earnest,  and  sublime 
Were  all  the  words  he  uttered  then ; 

With  angels'  songs  they  sweetly  chime, 
And  fill  with  joy  the  hearts  of  men. 

"O  Father  !  glorify  thy  Son, 

And  be  thou  glorified  in  me ; 
Make  all  thy  children  here  as  one, 

As  I  in  purpose  am  with  thee. 

"  I  pray  thee  not  to  take  them  hence, 
But  keep  them  from  the  evil  here  ; 


EVANGELICAL    AND    RELIGIOUS.  165 

Thy  word  and  truth  their  sure  defence, 
While  they  remain  in  earth's  low  sphere. 

"  And  thee  to  know,  the  only  true, 
And  Jesus  Christ  thy  Sent  and  Son ; 

These  shall  their  hearts  by  grace  renew. 
And  life,  eternal  life,  be  won." 


166 


XII. 

THE    COMFORTER    PROMISED. 
JOHN  xvi. 

"  THE  Comforter  shall  come,"  he  said, 

In  firm  but  tender  tone  : 
"  Alone  I  must  the  wine-press  tread, 

But  think  not  you're  alone." 

"  I  go,  but  he  in  power  shall  come, 
As  truth,  with  mightiest  power ; 

And  I,  a  witness  from  my  home, 
Of  that  auspicious  hour. 

rt  He  shall  reprove,  and  gently  guide 
To  truth  as  sunlight  clear ; 

Around,  within,  on  every  side, 
To  comfort  and  to  cheer. 

"  A  little  while  and  I  must  go  : 

To  God,  to  me,  be  true ; 
The  spirit-power  is  thine,  and,  lo  ! 

I  always  am  with  you." 


167 


XIII. 

THE    CROSS    OF    CHRIST. 

THE  Cross,  the  symbol  once  of  crime^ 

It  bore  a  hated  name  ; 
Through  ages  dark  in  realms  of  time 

The  mark  of  human  shame. 

But  when  the  Son  of  God  appeared,. 

Haloed  with  light  divine, 
Hung  on  the  cross  by  those  who  feared, 

He  made  it  glory's  sign. 

O,  Son  of  God  !  that  cross  how  bright, 

Which  typifies  thy  love  ! 
To  human  hopes  a  beacon-light 

To  guide  to  worlds  above. 

It  decks  the  home,  it  crowns  the  spire  ; 

The  sign  to  conquer  by  : 
'Tis  one  the  living  all  admire,  — 

The  best  when  called  to  die. 


168  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

Oh  symbol !  to  the  Christian  dear, 

Be  ever  dear  to  me ; 
To  strengthen  faith,  to  quell  all  fear, 

And  lead,  O  God,  to  thee. 


169 


XIV. 

THE    HOLY    SPIRIT. 

LIKE  to  the  sun  that  sheds  its  beams 

To  light  and  warm  and  bless  the  whole, 

The  Holy  Spirit  ever  streams 

To  light  and  warm  the  human  soul. 

Like  to  the  wind  which  none  can  see, 
But  flowing,  fills  this  world  so  fair, 

The  Holy  Spirit  flows  as  free,  — 
Is  present  with  us  everywhere. 

As  sparks  electric  thrill  the  wire, 

And  speedeth  thought  from  mind  to  mind, 
The  Holy  Spirit's  latent  fire 

Illumes  the  souls  of  human  kind ; 

Or,  coming  down  like  showers  of  rain, 
Is  poured  on  man  as  from  on  high ; 

Soft  as  the  dew,  but  not  in  vain, 
It  giveth  peace  for  every  sigh. 


170  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

With  silent  power  reproving  sin, 
Is  evermore  to  truth  a  guide  ; 

And  purifying  all  within, 

Must  there  in  peace  and  joy  abide. 

Oh  grieve  it  not,  nor  check  its  sway : 
It  will  not  always  calmly  strive  ; 

Then  yield  in  love  while  yet  'tis  day, 
And  so  with  God  forever  live. 


171 


XV. 

SPIRITUAL     RESURRECTION. 

4  The  hour  is  coming,  and  now  is,  when  the  dead  shall  hear  the  voice 

of  the  Son  of  God,  and  they  that  hear  shall  live." 

JOHN  v.  25. 

ENCLOSED  at  birth  in  mortal  shrine, 

The  soul  lies  buried  deep  ; 
Some  trumpet-tone  must  rend  the  air, 

To  wake  it  from  its  sleep. 

Toiling  and  groping  in  the  gloom, 

It  craves  a  clearer  light ; 
But  passion,  fear,  or  low  desire, 

Its  best  endeavors  blight. 

Conscience,  with  still  but  searching  tones, 

Speaks  to  its  waiting  ear ; 
Startled,  it  rouses  for  a  time, 

But  shrinketh  back  in  fear. 


172  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

Then  come  affliction,  sickness,  pain, 
With  shriller  tones  of  voice : 

They  bid  it  strive  for  higher  things, 
For  noblest,  highest  choice. 

But  all  in  vain  :  God's  Son  alone, 
With  trumpet-tone  can  save  ; 

He  speaks,  and,  starting  from  its  sleep, 
It  rises  from  the  grave. 

Then  born  again,  o'ercome  its  foes, 
It  plumes  its  wings  to  soar 

Above  all  realms  that  bounds  its  flight, 
To  live  for  evermore. 


173 


XVI. 

"  But  go  thy  way  till  the  end  be."  —  DANIEL  xii.  13. 
"  Raised  from  death  nnto  life."  —  JOHN  v.  24. 

AND  must  it  be  ?  and  must  we  die, 
And  in  the  grave's  cold  recess  lie  ? 
Such  is  the  Father's  wise  decree, 
And  therefore  just  and  best  to  be. 

The  dust  returns  to  native  dust, 
For  God  and  Nature  say  it  must ; 
But  oh,  the  soul !  it  never  dies, 
But  on  to  heaven  homeward  hies. 

There  pearly  gates  with  portals  wide, 
And  angels  guarding  either  side, 
Are  open  flung  as  souls  appear, 
That  read  to  heaven  their  title  clear. 

"Eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  hath  heard" 
The  promised  joys  of  God's  dear  Word ; 


174  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

To  those  who,  purged  from  earth  and  sin, 
Are  ready  clothed  to  enter  in. 

Lord  !  purge  our  souls  from  every  stain, 
Nor  let  our  sighs  nor  prayers  be  vain ; 
But  drawn  to  thee  by  faith  and  love, 
Be  purified  for  bliss  above. 


175 


XVII. 

'  Lead  me  in  the  way  everlasting."  —  PSALM  cxxxix.  24. 

MIGHTY  Lord !  oh  heed  us,  lead  us 
Through  the  paths  of  truth  and  love ; 

With  thy  heavenly  manna  feed  us, 
Falling  gently  from  above. 

Lead  us  on  to  founts  of  beauty, 

Bathe  us  deep  in  streams  of  truth, 
Train  us  in  the  paths  of  duty, 
Glowing  with  immortal  youth. 

Lead  us  up  to  mounts  of  vision, 
Far  away  from  sin  and  strife ; 

Roaming  free  through  fields  elysian, 
Full  to  everlasting  life. 

All  the  joys  of  earth  surpassing, 
Lead  me  on  by  faith  in  thee ; 

In  the  way  that's  everlasting, 
Peace,  and  Love,  and  Purity. 


176 


XVIII. 

I  shall  go  to  him,  but  he  shall  not  return  to  me."  —  2  SAM.  xii.  23. 

WHEN  all  that's  mortal  dieth, 

The  soul  at  once  is  free  : 
The  spirit-voice  it  crieth, 

I  cannot  stay  with  thee ; 
I  sail  through  seas  of  azure, 

Am  all  I'd  wish  to  be  : 
Oh,  rich  the  heavenly  treasure, 

And  you  must  come  to  me. 

Here  sin  no  longer  trieth, 

I  cannot  go  to  thee  ; 
The  spirit  it  upriseth, 

And  you  must  come  to  me. 
Here  rapt  in  heavenly  vision, 

All  glorious  things  I  see, 
And  filled  with  joys  elysian, 

'Tis  you  must  come  to  me. 


DEVOTIONAL   AND   SPIRITUAL. 


HYMNS. 


I. 

ON  ENTERING  THE   CHURCH. 

LET  mind  and  heart  and  soul  awake, 
And  praise  to  God  melodious  make ; 
Let  feeling  bring  her  offering  here, 
For  joy  a  smile,  for  grief  a  tear. 

Let  memory's  glance  be  backward  cast, 
And  thanks  incite  for  mercies  past ; 
And  rapture's  eye  be  turned  above, 
For  thousand  gifts  of  heavenly  love. 

Let  all  the  powers  that  God  has  given 
Find  use  on  earth,  and  hope  in  heaven  ; 
In  Christ's  own  school  be  trained  and  taught, 
And  he  the  Lord  of  every  thought. 


180  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

In  glory  all  but  angels  made, 
Let  faith  arid  hope  on  God  be  stayed  ; 
Aspire  to  him,  and  him  love  best, 
And  rise  triumphant  with  the  blest. 


181 


II. 

CONFESSION  AND   SUPPLICATION. 

How  distant,  Lord,  we  children  are 

In  all  our  thoughts  of  thee ; 
Coldly  we  think  that  thou  afar 

No  acts  of  ours  can  see. 
The  cares  of  earth  about  us  cling, 

And  things  of  sense  intrude  ; 
Strong,  strong  they  press  on  every  side, 

And  thee  and  heaven  exclude. 

But,  gracious  God  !  aid  us  to  rise, 

From  strength  to  strength  to  go, 
Till  thee  we  love  with  burning  hearts 

More  than  all  else  below. 
Thus  aid  us  at  thine  altars  here, 

All  idols  downward  hurled  ; 
And,  by  the  power  of  Christ  divine, 

Enthrone  thee  o'er  the  world. 


182 


III. 

PENITENCE. 

FAR  off  from  God,  oh  thou  my  soul ! 

Far  off  from  God  the  source  of  light ; 
The  waves  of  passion  round  thee  roll, 

And  interpose  a  starless  night. 

Lost  on  thy  course,  thy  steps  astray, 
How  canst  thou  find  again  thy  road  ? 

Fall  on  the  knee,  devoutly  pray, 
And  seek  the  aid  of  truth  and  God. 

Thy  sins  confess,  from  error  flee  ; 

Then  holy  thoughts  and  heavenly  love 
Shall  come  through  sweet  humility, 

And  flood  thy  soul  from  realms  above. 

Flood  it  with  peace  that  earth  hath  not, 
And  earth  no  power  to  take  away ; 

Thy  stains  washed  out,  thy  sins  forgot, 
And  God  thy  trust,  thy  strength,  thy  stay. 


183 


IV. 

PEAYER. 

WE  give  thee  thanks,  O  God,  for  prayer, 
And  own  its  gracious  power ; 

Would  learn  its  use  with  heartfelt  care 
In  every  waiting  hour. 

By  it  the  contrite,  stricken  mind 
Comes  kneeling  at  thy  throne  ; 

In  yearnings  deep  that  grace  to  find 
Which  thou  canst  give  alone. 

By  it  the  door  is  opened  wide 
Through  which  the  soul  may  go, 

To  woo  thy  spirit  for  its  guide, 
Whether  in  joy  or  woe. 

In  prayer  the  senses  yield  to  soul, 
Which,  taking  upward  flight, 


184  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

O'er  evil  gains  a  full  control, 
And  bathes  itself  in  light. 

By  it,  O  God,  we  rise  to  thee, 

And  worship  at  thy  feet ; 
Pardoned  our  sins,  from  cares  set  free, 

Communion,  then,  how  sweet ! 

O  Father  !  hear  us  when  we  pray, 

Cast  out  our  every  fear ; 
Our  faith  increase,  as  day  by  day 

We  draw  to  thee  more  near. 


185 


V. 

"  God  is  a  refuge  for  us."  — PSALM  Ixii.  7. 

To  whom  shall  we  go,  Lord,  if  not  unto  thee, 
When  the  tempests  and  trials  of  life  we  would 

flee; 
From  pride  that  deludes,  and  from  passions  that 

blind, 
And  true  consolation  in  sorrow  would  find  ? 

To  whom  but  to  thee,  Lord,  when  doubt  rives  the 

soul, 

And  fear's  darkest  surges  around  us  shall  roll ; 
When  the  pangs  of  decay  we're  beginning  to  feel. 
And  the  numbness  of  death  o'er  the  heart-strings 

to  steal ? 

To  whom  but  to  thee,  Lord,  confiding  alone 

Our  last  sweetest  accents, "  Thy  will  here  be  done ;  " 

In  trust  and  submission  give  over  the  strife, 

And  yield  up,  unmurmuring,  the  remnant  of  life? 


186  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

Lord,  to  thee  only  !  so,  parting  with  this, 
To  take  on  new  garments  in  mansions  of  bliss ; 
Blest  mansions !  prepared  by  Jesus  thy  Son, 
And  surety  he,  that  the  goal  may  be  won. 


187 


VI. 

THE    NATIVITY. 

THIS  day  a  holy  child  had  birth, 

With  symbolled  name  of  love  divine ; 

"  Good-will  to  men,  and  peace  on  earth," 
The  angel's  song  !  oh,  make  it  thine  1 

Within  this  sphere  a  power  he  came, 
To  leave  it  never  more  again ; 

But  ever  strengthening  with  his  name, 
O'er  all  the  earth  at  length  to  reign. 

Spirit  of  Christ !  be  thy  course  free 
To  wage  eternal  war  with  sin ; 

To  bend  the  nations  all  to  thee, 
And  every  heart  to  goodness  win. 

Again,  my  soul !  at  thine  own  door 
He  knocks,  and  asks  a  welcome  there ; 

Greet  him  with  warmth  as  ne'er  before, 
And  his  great  love  thy  soul  shall  share. 


188 


VII. 

FOE    CHRISTMAS. 
STROPHE. 

EIGHTEEN  hundred  years  ago 

He  nestled  to  his  mother's  breast ; 

In  holiness  she  loved  him  so, 

His  inward  being  there  found  rest. 

ANTISTROPHE. 

Eighteen  hundred  years  are  gone  ; 

In  thy  heart  is  he  caressed  ? 
Breathes  he  there  in  dove-like  tone 

Of  sweet-eyed  joy  and  heavenly  peace  ? 

STROPHE. 

Eighteen  hundred  years  ago 
To  angel-songs  he  said  Amen  ! 

"  Thy  will  be  done  "  he  taught  below, 
To  bring  immortal  life  to  men. 


DEVOTIONAL    AND    SPIRITUAL.  189 

ANTISTROPHE. 

Eighteen  hundred  years  are  sped  ; 

Dost  thou  say,  God  !  thy  will  be  done  ? 
In  his  blest  footsteps  dost  thou  tread, 

The  steps  divine  of  God's  own  Son  ? 

STROPHE. 

Eighteen  hundred  years  ago 

He  met  with  cares,  and  strife,  and  scorn ; 
Then  died  in  agonies  of  woe, 

To  see  the  Resurrection  morn. 

ANTISTROPHE. 

Eighteen  hundred  years  are  past ; 

Tears,  cares,  and  strife  attend  our  way ; 
So  let  us  live  and  die  at  last, 

That  we  may  rise  to  endless  day. 


190 


VIII. 

FOR  ORDINATION  OR  INSTALLATION. 

IN  ancient  days  thy  gracious  care 

Set  angels  *  o'er  thy  churches,  Lord  ! 

Thy  messages  of  love  to  bear 

To  hungering  souls  from  out  thy  word. 

A  grateful  church,  to-day  we  bend 

To  thank  thee  for  thy  gift  of  love ; 
For  him,  the  angel  thou  dost  send, 

To  fill  the  place  of  one  above. 

As  off  the  clouds  of  darkness  roll, 

And  light  from  heaven  comes  sweet  and  true, 
The  stirring  call  rings  through  his  soul, 

To  consecrate  himself  anew. 

Oh  give  him  strength  this  flock  to  lead, 
In  those  sweet  ways  the  Saviour  taught ; 

*  See  Rev.  chap.  ii.    "  To  the  angel  of  the  church  in  Ephesus 
write,"  and  so  of  six  other  churches  in  Asia. 


DEVOTIONAL    AND    SPIRITUAL.  191 

To  break  the  bread,  the  lambs  to  feed, 
And  all  to  thee  be  safely  brought. 

Thy  strength  be  his,  thy  wisdom  guide, 
A  beacon-tight  around  to  shine  ; 

Long,  long  with  them  on  earth  abide, 
In  life  and  death,  and  ever  thine. 


192 


IX. 

IMMORTALITY. 
'  This  mortal  must  put  on  immortality.  —  1  COB.  xv.  53. 

FROM  God  went  forth  the  great  decree, 

That  all  that  lives  must  die ; 
The  flower  to  fade,  the  leaf  set  free, 

The  flesh  in  dust  to  lie. 

The  mystic  line  is  quickly  passed, 

And  time  no  more  shall  be ; 
The  soul  is  clothed  upon  at  last 

With  Immortality. 

What  marvels  then  shall  meet  the  gaze, 

In  scenes  where  spirits  roam ! 
Left  is  our  home  of  earthly  days, 

To  gain  the  Heavenly  Home  ! 

There  sighs  no  more,  nor  tears,  nor  pain ; 
All  things  are  strange  and  new  ; 


DEVOTIONAL    AND    SPIRITUAL.  193 

There  dwelleth  God  with  men  again, 
His  word  forever  true. 

There  runs  the  crystal  stream  of  life, 

His  throne  of  love  fast  by ; 
Bliss  supersedes  all  earthly  strife, 

And  man  no  more  can  die. 


13 


194 


X. 

SILVER  WEDDING  HYMN. 
T.  H.  B.  1842. 

GOD  of  Mercy,  God  of  Grace, 
As  we  humbly  seek  thy  face, 
Hear  our  earnest,  heartfelt  prayer, 
Bless  this  day  and  bless  this  pair. 

Fold  them  safe  in  thine  own  arms ; 
Keep  them,  Lord,  from  outward  harms  ; 
Give  them  grace  and  inward  peace, 
Long  as  life  shall  have  a  lease. 

The  olive-buds  about  them  set, 
With  heaven's  gentlest  dews  be  wet ; 
Bless  the  friends  who  swell  the  throng, 
To  echo  back  the  wedding-song. 

As  they  pass  each  circling  year, 
May  they  feel  thy  presence  near ; 


DEVOTIONAL    AND    SPIRITUAL.  195 

Be  their  motto,  Duty,  Love  ; 

Their  hope,  acclaim  from  thee  above. 

God  of  Mercy  !  God  of  Grace  ! 
As  we  humbly  seek  thy  face, 
Hear  our  earnest,  heartfelt  prayer, 
Bless  for  aye  this  wedded  pair. 


196 


XI. 

EVENING  HYMN. 

FROM  every  scene  in  nature, 

In  earth,  and  air,  and  sky ; 
From  every  form  and  creature 

That  meets  the  glancing  eye,  — 
There  comes  a  voice  of  rapture, 

Proclaiming  God  in  all : 
A  God  of  power  and  goodness, 

On  whom  in  love  we  call. 

Oh  grant  us  now  thy  blessing 

To  close  this  happy  day, 
That  we,  thy  grace  possessing, 

May  henceforth  never  stray. 
Be  filled  with  Christ's  own  spirit 

Of  grace,  and  truth,  and  love ; 
And  so  that  bliss  inherit 

Which  comes  from  God  above. 


DEVOTIONAL    AND    SPIRITUAL.  197 

On  earth  in  bonds  unite  us, 

Of  friendship  just  and  true  ; 
And  let  thy  Word  incite  us 

To  love  in  all  we  do. 
Make  us  both  true  and  tender, 

While  pilgrims  we  shall  be ; 
And  when  we  life  surrender, 

Grant  joy  and  peace  with  thee. 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


[Tn  the  contest  for  Prize  Odes,  1827,  the  following  is  one  of  the 
rejected.] 

REJECTED  ADDRESS. 

Traveller,  Oct.  1827. 

IN  times  of  old,  when  Greece  and  Art  were  young, 
Ere  Phidias  wrought  or  great  Eschylus  sung, 
The  infant  Drama,  unreclaimed  by  laws, 
Brought  Athens  down  in  thunders  of  applause ; 
A  wagon  then  subserved  the  actor's  art, 
O'er  which  to  reign  the  monarch  of  the  heart ; 
But,  patrons !  here  !  beneath  this  fretted  dome, 
The  modern  actor's  as  the  Muses'  home, 
We  bid  you  welcome  with  an  honest  cheer, 
And  ask  your  plaudits  for  our  welcome  here. 


202  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

Time  was,  indeed,  when  Superstition's  power 
Exiled  the  Muses  from  the  Drama's  bower, 
Then  blazing  piles  deluded  sectarists  saw, 
And  mimic  heroes  trembled  at  the  law ; 
But  o'er  that  moral  waste  of  mental  night, 
Fair  Science  rising,  shed  her  beams  of  light ! 
'Twas  then  the  stage,  unprisoned,  rose  to  view, 
Gave  scenes  from  nature,  as  to  nature  true ; 
Lashed  the  dark  vices  of  that  mystic  age, 
And  poured  new  radiance  o'er  the  rising  stage. 

With  verging  fortune,  but  with  power  the  same, 
The  Drama  since  has  onward  pressed  to  fame ; 
Held  high  her  mirror  of  unnumbered  hues, 
To  image  there  the  moral-pictured  muse ; 
Caught  those  bright  forms  that  shoot  the  world 

along, 

And  made  them  dwellers  in  immortal  song ; 
While  Genius  fostered,  notes  the  boldest  sang, 
Till  Fiction's  realms  with  Wisdom's  echoes  rang. 

In  this  bright  court  the  actor's  wreathed  wand 
Creates,  and  has  creation  at  command  ! 


MISCELLANEOUS.  203 

With  boldest  coloring,  and  with  wildest  power, 
He  rules  the  wizard  of  the  sportive  hour ; 
Lays  his  bright  spell  within  this  magic  ring, 
And  here  a  fop  evokes,  and  there  a  king  ! 
A  courtier  now,  that,  fawning,  fools  himself ! 
And  now  a  miser,  poor  with  all  his  pelf! 
Here  struts  Sir  Jack,  a  jolly,  blustering  knight, 
While  Laughter  chuckles  o'er  his  well-told  fight ! 
There    opes    the    grave  where    blighted   fondness 

sleeps, 
Or  wildly  scoffs  as  baffled  Knavery  weeps. 

To  this  fair  scene,  to  muse  his  niggard  lot, 
May  Genius  come,  his  woes  from  thence  forgot; 
Hither  dun  Labor  stray,  to  catch  the  light 
That  melts  the  heart  with  Fancy's  wild  delight : 
Here  bold  Design  seek  leisure  to  unwind 
The  same  dark  plot  that  labors  in  his  mind. 
While  Grief  subdued  finds  solace  in  the  scene 
That  paints  the  woe  that  all  his  own  hath  been. 
And  thou,  O  Beauty  !  wreathed  in  Fashion's  glass, 
Here  come,  and  scoff  as  Vice  and  Folly  pass  ; 
Bid  Satire  close  with  Guilt,  and  greatly  dare 
To  shoot  the  shaft,  your  rising  blush  to  spare ; 


204  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

But  Virtue  cheer ;  she  asks  your  bland  applause, 
That  she  may  triumph  in  the  Drama's  cause. 

And  now,  thou  Fane,  upreared  by  native  art, 
To  mould  the  manners  and  improve  the  heart, 
May  Taste  and  Genius  o'er  thy  scene  preside, 
Wake  slumbering  Thought,   and  Feeling  fondly 

guide ; 

Here  may  the  Muse  distil  her  golden  verse, 
And  Sense  and  Nature  oft  their  parts  rehearse ; 
Here  friends  of  Freedom  guard  the  Drama's  cause, 
Frequent  her  temple  and  promulge  her  laws : 
Then  shall  the  Drama  aid  their  cause  sublime, 
Till  the  last  curtain  shall  be  dropped  on  Time. 


205 


THE   LONE   FORTY* 

AN   INCIDENT  OP  CONSECRATION   DAY,    1868,   VERSIFIED. 
Christian  Register,  July,  1868.     Monthly  Magazine. 

'TwAS  come,  —  the  consecrated  day 

A  grateful  land  had  set  apart 
On  soldier's  graves  fond  wreaths  to  lay, 

More  touching  far  than  works  of  art. 

In  one  sequestered  sacred  spot 

Twoscore  of  soldiers  sweetly  slept ; 

The  thirty-nine  had  been  forgot, 
And  only  one  a  widow  wept. 

Poor  soldier  boy !  but  one  of  three 
She  freely  gave  to  save  the  land ; 

A  martyr  he  to  liberty, 

And  sleepeth  now  with  this  brave  band. 


*  Forty  soldiers  fell  at  Fort  Stevens  in  defence  of  the  national 
capitol,  and  lie  buried  at  a  lone  spot  seven  miles  from  Washington. 


206  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

In  sight  of  that  dear  flag  and  dome 
They  fiercely  fought  and  nobly  fell ; 

For  them  left  sweethearts,  wives,  and  home, 
And  more  of  love  than  words  can  tell. 

To  this  lone  spot  this  mother  brave 

Bore  forty  wreaths,  the  blooms  of  May ; 

One  for  her  own  boy's  turfy  grave, 
One  on  each  soldier's  lot  to  lay. 

A  woman's  heart  in  largest  love 
Embraced  and  consecrated  all ; 

Scattered  her  flowers  their  graves  above, 
And  silent  tears  let  gently  fall. 

Wisdom  is  here  ;  for  well  she  knew 

Where  trophies  rise  and  thousands  sleep ; 

There,  to  their  human  instincts  true, 
The  multitude  would  rush  to  weep ; 

But  she  alone,  more  deeply  moved, 
Sought  out  this  sad  forgotten  lot, 

And  thus  a  halo  round  it  wreathed, 
Outshining  many  a  nobler  spot. 


207 


LINES 

To  the  Rev.  Charles  Cleaveland,  on  his  Ninetieth  Birthday. 

So  far,  thou  servant  blest  of  God, 

Through  all  of  fourscore  years  and  ten 

The  path  of  life  hath  safely  trod, 

And  still  thy  step  is  firm.  What  then  ? 

So  far  His  hand  hath  held  thee  up, 

Through  all  thy  fourscore  years  and  ten ; 

And  filled  with  gifts  life's  varied  cup, 

Which  soon  must  overflow.     What  then  ? 

So  far  thy  faith  hath  guided  thee, 

Through  all  thy  fourscore  years  and  ten, 

To  bless  the  homes  of  poverty, 

And  raised  them  nearer  heaven.     What  then  ? 

What  then  ?  The  father's  blessed  hand, 
Beyond  thy  fourscore  years  and  ten, 

Shall  lead  thee  through  this  Canaan  land, 
To  an  approaching  end.  What  then  ? 


208  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

A  halo  weave  around  thy  brow, 

And  change  thy  fourscore  years  and  ten 

To  one  :  the  everlasting  Now, 

In  his  blest  realms  above.     What  then  ? 

What  then  ?     Oh  spare  my  aching  sight ! 

No  pains,  no  poor,  no  sin,  no  strife, 
But  one  unclouded  scene  of  light, 

And  Time  and  Death  exchanged  for  LIFE. 


209 


WHAT  IS   POETRY? 


'Tis  asked,  — What  is  the  art  divine 
That  floweth  forth  in  epic  line  ? 
At  times  so  gay,  at  times  so  sad, 
It  wins  alike  the  grieved  or  glad  ? 
Is  now  instructive,  now  sublime, 
A  steady  stream  of  sweetest  rhyme  ? 
Johnsonian  now,  is  rough  and  strong ; 
Or,  Browning-like,  a  mystic  song  ? 
For  which  some  moderns  claim  this  test 
(Modern,  indeed,  if  not  the  best)  : 
"  Nature  dressed  out  in  witching  words 
Of  brawling  brooks  and  babbling  birds  ; 
Of  wild  flowers  sweet  in  far-off  dell, 
Where  lovers  walk  or  hermits  dwell ; 
Of  thunder's  crash,  or  cataract's  roar, 
Or  sounding  boom  of  ocean's  shore ; 
Of  thought  tricked  out  in  gorgeous  dress, 
Too  deeply  hid  for  man  to  guess ; 
14 


210  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

Some  burst  of  passion  wrought  with  art, 
Without  the  key  to  fit  the  heart, 
Leaving  unlocked  its  wealth  of  tears, 
Its  mystic  sighs  and  hidden  fears,"  — 
Such  is  the  bard  of  modern  days, 
With  all  his  word-deluding  lays. 
But  answer  plain,  with  line  on  line, 
And  tell,  What  is  this  art  divine  ? 
Nor  fear  the  charge,  nor  flee  the  pain 
Of  being  thought  o'erwise  or  vain. 

'Tis  this  alone  :   'tis  precious  thought 

From  out  the  mind  by  genius  brought ; 

'Tis  truth,  and  right,  and  love  expressed 

In  words  arranged  in  order  best ; 

Not  one  too  much,  nor  one  too  long,  — 

Simpler  the  words,  more  sweet  the  song. 

'Tis  here  a  trope,  a  figure  there, 

Some  touch  of  nature,  fresh  as  fair ; 

An  artless  tale  of  war  or  love, 

Through  which  the  passions  gently  move, 

Or  play  a  part  heroic,  bold, ' 

Or  tenderest  feelings  sweet  unfold  ; 


MISCELLANEOUS. 

Or  build  the  bower  where  lovers  sigh, 
Where  Romeos  roam  or  Juliets  die  ; 
Or,  weaving  bright  some  magic  scene, 
Disarms  our  grief,  or  cures  our  spleen ; 
Or,  sweeping  round  on  Heaven's  broad  verge, 
Kings  out  the  hymn  or  sacred  dirge, 
To  lift  us  up  where  angels  dwell, 
And  scenes  unveil  no  tongue  can  tell. 

It  gilds  with  grace  the  airy  homes 
Of  fairies,  genii,  and  gnomes  ; 
And  not  a  fancy  fires  the  brain 
But  sings  its  song  in  siren  strain  ; 
No  realm  too  high  for  mind  to  pierce, 
Or  find  expression  fit  in  verse  : 
But,  most  of  all,  'tis  precious  thought 
From  out  the  mind  by  genius  brought, 
Woven  all  o'er  with  fancy's  web, 
And  through  the  realms  of  beauty  led. 

Such,  reader,  is  the  art  divine 
That  floweth  forth  from  epic  line, 


212  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

In  stories  told  in  pleasing  rhyme, 
In  hymns  of  winged  words  sublime, 
In  simple  song,  in  ballad  true, 
To  please  the  mind,  the  soul  imbue. 


213 


WHAT  IS   BEAUTY? 


BEAUTY  is  what?  inquires  the  Sage, 
And  gives  for  answer,  page  on  page  : 
It  is  in  form,  it  is  in  face 
Some  undefined,  unquestioned  grace  ; 
A  smile  suffused,  a  liquid  eye, 
A  pensive  air,  a  suppressed  sigh, 
A  curling  lip,  a  soft  white  hand, 
Or  all  the  features  sweet  and  bland ; 
An  arching  brow,  a  line  unique, 
That  to  some  innate  sense  doth  speak ; 
Says  one,  'tis  this,  another,  that, 
And  moot  it  sharp  with  tit  for  tat. 
But  tell  me  one,  and  tell  me  all,  — 
Yes,  old  or  young,  or  great  or  small,  — 
Whether  this  magic,  wondrous  thing, 
In  rhapsody  which  poets  sing, 
If  common  sense  does  not  define 
This  thing  of  earth,  and  yet  divine, 
As  outgrowth  pure  of  love  and  duty  ? 
If  so,  Benevolence  is  Beauty. 


JEU  D'ESPRIT 

ON  LINES  BY  D.  W.,    DESCRIBING   "ANNIE'S   CHAMBER." 

MOST  sweetly,  most  truly  the  chamber's  described 
Of  the  maid  with  blue  eye  and  bonnie  brown 

hair : 
Its    shells,   books,  and  pictures,   and  trophies   of 

pride ; 
But  something,  yes,  something  is  still  wanting 

there. 
Grateful  and  pure  the  pen  which  described 

Its  sweetness  and  neatness,  its  graces  and  plan  ; 
But,  perfect  as  'tis,  it  can't  be  denied 

One  jewel  is  wanting,  that  jewel  —  a  man. 


215 


GRISWOLD'S   "POETS  AND   POETRY  OF 
ENGLAND." 

ON   RETURNING   TO   A   FRIEND   A   BORROWED   COPY. 

I  LOVE  to  read  the  Poet's  page, 

To  soar  with  such  on  fancy's  wing ; 

To  scan  their  sparkling  thoughts  so  sage, 
And,  raptured,  listen  while  they  sing. 

The  elder  bards  of  various  lay 

Were  treasured  up  in  deepest  thought ; 

As  Chaucer,  Shakespeare,  Pope,  and  Gray, 
And  Wordsworth,  Byron,  Moore,  and  Scott. 

But  modern  songsters  high  in  fame, 
As  Shelley,  Browning,  Milnes,  Praed, 

Were  little  known  by  more  than  name, 
Or  dimly  stood  in  memory's  shade. 

So  Bayley,  Norton,  Barrett,  Cook, 
Macaulay,  Tennyson,  and  Keats 


216  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

Rung  out  new  songs  to  swell  the  book 
That  thrills  the  heart  with  rapture's  beats. 

Then  thanks  for  Griswold's  well-gleaned  lore 
Of  gems  from  every  modern  bard ; 

Made  up  of  England's  richest  ore, 
For  loving  souls  to  prize  and  guard. 


217 


THOUGHTS   FOR  AGE. 


SEND  forth  your  thoughts  in  sweetness, 

For  here  you  cannot  bide  ; 
Time  flows  with  fearful  fleetness, 

As  downward  sweeps  the  tide. 

Send  forth  your  thoughts  with  gladness 

To  all  the  listeners  round  ; 
Nor  let  one  tone  of  sadness 

In  your  last  strains  be  found. 

Send  forth  your  thoughts  with  frankness, 

Of  life  the  precious  gains ; 
Nor  think  the  world  is  thankless 

For  time-long  toils  and  pains. 

Send  forth  your  thoughts  with  chasteness, 
To  make  more  pure  the  whole ; 

And  teach  'tis  height  of  baseness 
To  stain  a  spotless  soul. 


218  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

Send  forth  your  thoughts  in  meekness 

Well  suited  to  the  hour ; 
And  though  they're  sown  in  weakness, 

Have  faith  they'll  rise  in  power. 

Send  forth  your  thoughts,  not  cheerless, 
In  dread  of  tomb  and  sod  ; 

Give  them  thy  body,  fearless, 
Thy  spirit  up  to  God. 

Let  them  go  forth  in  calmness, 
Fixed  firm  on  him  most  high  ; 

And,  living  ever  blameless, 
In  peace  and  calmness  die. 


219 


LINES 

To  Miss  A.  M.  M.,  on  the  Gift  of  a  Beautiful  Bracket  in  the  Form 
of  a  Cross,  wrought  by  herself. 


'TwAS  one  like  thee  who  sought  the  place, 
First,  first  of  all,  where  Jesus  died ; 

Nor  deemed  nor  dreamed  it  a  disgrace 
He  bore  the  name  of  Crucified. 

'Twas  woman  first,  at  early  dawn, 

With  spices  reached  his  body's  prison  ; 

By  power  divine,  from  thence  withdrawn, 
To  her  he  said,  "  Not  here,  but  risen  !  " 

And  ever  since,  with  loving  care, 

With  flowers,  and  leaves,  and  wood,  and  art, 
'Tis  she  has  wrought  this  symbol  rare, 

To  mould  and  mend  the  human  heart. 

To  rear  this  sign,  how  timely  now, 

"  By  which  to  conquer,"  monarchs  said  ; 


220  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

When  faith's  rich  currents  run  so  low, 
And  crowds  on  husks  of  doubt  are  fed. 

Thanks,  lady,  for  this  gift  of  thine, 

Of  which  a  friend  may  proudly  boast,  - 

Remembrancer  of  HIM  divine  ; 

Of  her  who  loved  and  loves  the  most. 


221 


THE   LUXURIOUS   FEAST. 

A  friend  wrote,  "  I  never  dine  luxuriously.    My  personal  indul- 
gence rarely  goes  beyond  a  cigar." 

MY  good  neighbor  and  friend  his  table  hath  spread 
With  roast  and  with  pudding,  potatoes  and  bread ; 
With  salad  or  peas,  with  tomatoes  and  fruit, 
And  with  other  such  trifles  his  palate  to  suit. 

A  dinner  like  this  is  luxuriously  fine 
Without  mingling  a  drop  of  whiskey  or  wine  ; 
Luxurious  enough  without  pipe  or  cigar : 
And  who  but  a  ninny  from  these  would  debar? 

Such  a  table  is  mine  ;  and  I  feel  very  sure 
Luxurious  'tis  called  by  some  of  the  poor; 
But  if  envy  shall  scan,  with  reproach  in  her  eyes, 
The  candid  will  own  it  is  temperate  and  wise. 

Then  here's  to    the   health    of   my  good    friend, 

Mr.  B., 
And  a  table  more  lean  may  he  ne'er  live  to  see ; 


222  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

And  if  after  the  dinner  his  thoughts  fail  to  flow, 
Then,  earlier  or  later,  to  his  study  we'll  go. 

And  there,  what  an  outgush  of  stories  and  verse, 
In  English  or  French,  in  words  easy  or  terse ! 
There  friends  could  but  own  that  "  luxurious  "  at 

least 
Was  the  banquet  that  followed,  if  not  so  the  feast. 


223 


THE   LEDGER  OF   LIFE. 

On  completing  my  Seventieth  Year,  August  15,  1£63. 

ARRIVED  at  threescore  years  and  ten, 

The  voice  of  conscience  cries,  —  What  then  ? 

This ;  ere  advancing  one  step  more, 

Take  strict  account  of  life's  large  store ; 

Nor  self-evasion  rashly  seek, 

When  phantom -hours  rise  up  to  speak, 

And  find  how  much  will  stand  the  test, 

Of  bad,  of  better,  and  of  best ; 

Of  hours,  how  many  flung  away 

In  foolish  sport  or  childish  play ; 

How  many  nobly,  grandly,  passed 

To  fit  thy  soul  to  meet  the  last ; 

How  many  in  life's  anxious  strife 

For  truth  and  friends,  for  home  and  wife ; 

How  many  for  thy  private  aim, 

For  riches,  power,  or  worldly  fame ; 


AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

How  many  more  in  pangs  of  woe, 
When  wasting  sickness  laid  thee  low  ; 
Not  the  fruit  of  carelessness, 
Or,  sadder  still,  of  life's  excess. 

If  these  outweigh  thine  hours  of  prayer, 
And  holy  thought  yet  still  more  rare ; 
If  they  outweigh  those  passed  within, 
To  overcome  the  power  of  sin ; 
Or  those  bestowed  on  youthful  friends 
To  serve  instruction's  blessed  ends ; 
Or  those  which  conscience  ever  claims, 
To  bear  us  on  to  higher  aims,  — 
Then  let  me  turn,  of  faults  repent, 
And  well  improve  life's  remnant  lent ; 
My  day-book  crowd,  as  days  shall  come, 
With  entries  large  of  richest  sum ; 
Nor  credit  give  but  where  'tis  sure, 
To  thoughts  sincere  and  motives  pure. 
The  ledger  thus  with  good  deeds  square, 
And  so  for  judgment  strict  prepare ; 
Nor  doubt  that  love  will  there  preside, 
And  balance  find  on  plaintiff's  side. 


225 


MARY,   THE   MOTHER  OF  JESUS. 


'TwAS  Mary,  best  of  women  born, 
In  goodness  pure  and  undefiled, 
Gave  to  the  world  the  holy  child 
On  Christmas,  happy  morn. 

'Twas  Mary,  grieving  for  her  loss, 

Was  last  to  leave  the  angry  crowd, 

And  of  her  Son  was  nobly  proud, 

E'en  dying  on  the  cross. 

'Twas  Mary,  with  her  sweet  perfume, 
By  love  divinest  sweetly  drawn, 
Was  first  of  all  at  earliest  dawn 
To  find  his  opened  tomb. 


16 


AUTUMN    LEAVES. 


Ye  Marys  all,  with  souls  to  save, 
A  pattern  take  from  this  blest  one  ; 
Be  first  to  seek  and  love  this  Son, 
At  cradle,  cross,  and  grave. 


227 


CANARY   BIRD. 

KILLED     BY     PUSSY. 

1869. 

BIRDIE  sweet !  how  brisk  and  cheery 
Was  thy  chirp  of  yesterday  ! 

But  to-day  how  sad  and  dreary, 
As  ye  torn  and  bleeding  lay  ! 

Scenes  like  these,  of  sorrow  many, 
As  we  pass  from  year  to  year ; 

So  that  all  that's  asked  of  any 
Is  the  quiet,  dewy  tear. 

Teach  us,  birdie,  uncomplaining, 
How  to  bear  our  every  loss ; 

Teach  us  trust,  a  faith  unfeigning, 
Kneeling  at  the  sacred  cross  ; 


AUTUMN    LEAVES. 


How  to  check  the  flood  of  feeling ; 

Meek,  submissive  how  to  be ; 
Pray  for  aid,  to  God  appealing, 

His  the  covert  whence  to  flee. 


229 


A   LOVE-LORN   CONCEIT. 

JEU  D'ESPRIT. 

THE  fairest  rose  that  comes  with  June, 

Whose  charms  no  flower  outvies, 
Has  none  for  him,  the  love-lorn  lad, 

Because  it  has  —  no  eyes. 
Again  I  look  and  cast  it  down, 

My  feet  to  tread  beneath, 
For  oh,  the  senseless,  vapid  thing, 

IT  has  no  — pearly  teeth  ! 

But  then  its  color,  I  am  told, 

All  other  sweets  eclipse  ! 
'Tis  false,  'tis  false,  it  cannot  be, 

For  see  !  it  has  no  —  lips  ! 
They  speak  of  calyx,  cup,  and  stem, 

And  many  other  charms ; 
But  what  are  those,  however  fair, 

When  lo  !  it  has  —  no  arms  I 


230  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

Let  others  boast  their  summer  rose, 

Sans  eyes,  sans  arms,  sans  lips, 
My  living  flower,  with  all  of  these, 

Must,  therefore,  all  eclipse  ! 
With  eyes  like  sparkling  diamonds  bright, 

With  arms  to  press  mine  own, 
With  coral  lips  and  fragrant  breath, 

MARY'S  my  ROSE  full-blown  ! 


EPITHELAMIUM. 

Tenth  Anniversary  of  the  Marriage  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  W.  R.  B. 

JOY  go  with  you,  happy  pair, 
First  decade  of  marriage  o'er ; 

Be  thy  future  bright  as  fair, 
Richest  prospects  yet  in  store. 

At  the  altar  there  was  joy, 

Rich  in  sweets  of  wedded  love ; 

Rich,  but  not  enough  to  cloy, 

Crowned  with  blessings  from  above. 

Thousand  friends  still  round  thy  way, 

Loving,  cheering,  urging  on  ; 
Scarce  a  cloud  to  mar  thy  day, 

Prizes  new  that  would  be  won. 

Tin  and  "  Tinth  "  are  glittering  here, 
Next  will  come  the  Silver  cards, 


AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

Brightly  blazoned,  quaint  or  queer, 
Ushered  in  by  nobler  bards. 

Blessings  crown  ye  all  the  while, 
City  home  and  rustic  bowers  ; 

Friendship  lend  its  genial  smile, 
Constant  love  her  fragrant  flowers. 

Golden  days  at  length  will  come, 
Be  it  here,  or  there  above  ; 

May  they  find  ye  both  at  Home, 
In  the  arms  of  PERFECT  LOVE. 


233 


THE   BIRDIE'S   SONG. 

Set  to  music  by  W.  M.  PRAY,  Esq.    Published  and  sold  by  Koppitz, 
Priiffer,  &  Co.,  Boston. 

PRETTY  birdie  !  sweetheart  birdie  ! 

Pretty  birdie,  blithe  and  gay ! 
Hear  my  song  so  chaste  and  cheerie, 

In  this  loving  month  of  May ; 
Now's  the  time  for  billing,  cooing ; 

Now's  the  time  to  choose  a  mate  ; 
Chary  of  our  love  bestowing, 

As  repentance  comes  too  late. 

Pretty  birdie  !  gleesome  birdie  ! 

Here  shall  home  and  nest  be  wove ; 
Here  we'll  sing  so  blithe  and  cheerie, 

As  for  food  and  straws  we  rove  ; 
Chirrup,  warble,  trill,  and  whistle, 

Teach  our  wee  ones  songs  as  sweet, 
Birdling's  only  love  epistle, 

When  in  groves  and  flocks  they  meet. 


234  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

Pretty  birdie  !  gleesome  birdie  ! 

Now  our  flight's  away  !  and  up  ! 
Ever  trustful,  ever  cheerie, 

Sipping  Nature's  harvest-cup ; 
Life's  rich  feast  we've,  singing,  tasted, 

Lingering  long  on  this  bright  shore, 
As  we  gladly  hither  hasted, 

So  to  other  climes  we'll  soar. 


235 
SONG 

Sung  at  the  Ml.  Pleasant  Parish  Supper,  April  9,  1873. 


AIR,  —  "  Auld  Lang  Syne.' 


IN  sacred  joy  we  meet  to-night 

Around  this  social  board  ; 
Our  parish  prospects  beaming  bright, 

Beneath  the  preached  Word. 
And  they  throng  back  to  memory  dear 

Who  planned  this  work  divine, 
When  ALGER  stood  our  pastor  here, 
In  days  of  auld  lang  syne  ; 

In  days  of  auld  lang  syne  so  dear, 

In  days  of  auld  lang  syne  ; 
When  ALGER,  learned  and  young,  stood  here, 
In  days  of  auld  lang  syne. 

They  felt  the  new-born  Gospel  want, 

That  pressed  on  every  side  ; 
And  what  the  old  had  ceased  to  grant, 

Our  friends  with  zeal  supplied. 


236  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

Then  PUTNAM  o'er  this  church  was  set, 

To  train  the  Christian  vine  ; 
And  none  those  days  will  e'er  forget, 
Those  days  of  auld  lang  syne ; 

Those  days  of  auld  lang  syne  so  dear, 

Those  days  of  auld  lang  syne ; 
Though  glad  and  sad,  will  none  forget 
Those  parting  days,  lang  syne. 

How  many-hued  the  scenes  of  time, 

Which  change  with  every  year ; 
Now,  teach  the  truths  of  heaven  sublime, 

Now,  blind  with  grief's  sad  tear. 
And  thus  our  BOWEN,  cherished  name, 

That  Kose  and  Myrtle  twine, 
When  reached  the  pastor's  loftiest  aim, 
In  grief  we  closed  his  eyen. 

Sad  days  of  auld  lang  syne  so  dear, 

In  grief  we  closed  his  eyen  ; 
When  reached  the  pastor's  loftiest  aim, 
Sad  days  of  auld  lang  syne. 

Now  all  aglow,  forgot  the  past, 
Let  hope  our  feelings  stir, 


MISCELLANEOUS.  237 

And  our  best  thoughts  in  moulds  be  cast, 

Of  our  own  CARPENTER  ; 
In  moulds  of  Christian  love  and  truth, 

As  Christ's  own  words  define, 
And  so  be  trained  the  ag'd  and  youth, 
In  truths  of  auld  lang  syne. 

In  truths  of  auld  lang  syne  so  dear, 

In  truths  of  auld  lang  syne ; 
And  so  be  trained  the  old  and  young, 
In  truths  of  auld  lang  syne. 

The  Sunday  school,  loved  well  and  long, 

The  Dorcas  efforts  here, 
The  choir,  with  sweet  and  swelling  song,  — 

All  have  our  heart-felt  cheer  ; 
The  Church  triumphant  says,  Rejoice 

In  faith  and  love  divine ; 
Then  let  us  now  with  heart  and  voice 
Unite  with  auld  lang  syne  ; 

With  those  of  auld  lang  syne  so  dear, 

With  those  of  auld  lang  syne  ; 
The  Church,  the  School,  and  all,  rejoice 
With  those  of  auld  lang  syne. 


238 


LINES 

ON   THE  SILVER  WEDDING   OF  T.  H.  B. 

September  1,  1842-1 86T. 

TWENTY-FIVE  !  how  long  it  seems  ! 

Yet  brief  and  strange  as  midnight  dreams  ! 

The  marriage-bell,  the  rapid  tour, 

Anchored  at  home,  in  port  secure ; 

The  cradle  swung,  the  infant's  wail 

Varied  as  the  autumn's  gale  ; 

The  battle-strife  for  worldly  gains, 

The  seething  brain,  the  body's  pains, 

Hope  depressed,  and  hope  elate ; 

The  common  ills  of  human  state  ; 

Sins  and  follies,  sighs  and  tears, 

Clouds  and  mists  of  flitting  years  ! 

But  turn  the  shield,  contrast  the  view, 
Thus  make  the  picture  full  and  true ; 
The  stream  of  life  !  how  swift !  how  fair  ! 
How  calm,  unruffled,  free  of  care  ! 


MISCELLANEOUS.  239 

Year  after  year  one  gracious  round, 

And  each  with  some  new  blessing  crowned  ! 

The  world  a  witching  smile  has  cast, 

As  one  by  one  its  bounds  were  past ; 

With  toil  came  strength,  with  struggle,  power, 

And  inward  joy  with  every  hour  ; 

And,  more  than  all,  domestic  bliss 

No  fairer  shrine  has  found  than  this ; 

A  brilliant  circlet,  one,  the  same, 

Lit  up  by  love  and  friendship's  flame ; 

Its  olive-buds  unfolding  fast, 

In  fail-ness  and  in  promise  cast ; 

And  oh,  with  gladness  be  it  spoken, 

No  link  dropped  out,  not  one  been  broken  ! 

Such,  such  the  record  of  the  past, 
The  silver  boundary  reached  at  last ! 
Of  this  secure,  with  new  emprise, 
The  future  all  before  thee  lies ; 
New  hopes,  new  joys,  new  trials,  toils, 
With  all  of  life's  attacks  and  foils. 
But,  standing  firm  on  battle-field, 
The  helmet  bright,  and  same  the  shield, 


£40  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

The  future  calmly  we  may  meet, 
Nor  fear  repulse,  nor  dread  defeat ; 
But,  pressing  on  in  faith  divine, 
The  crown  at  last  will  sure  be  thine ; 
To  onescore  five  add  five  and  score, 
Then  more  than  doubled  all  thy  store  ; 
The  silver  feast  a  feast  of  old, 
The  silver  one  transformed  to  gold ; 
The  Scripture  lesson  well  recast,  — 
"  The  last  the  first,  the  first  the  last." 


241 


THE   EPITAPH. 


A  SPOT  of  earth  but  six  feet  long, 

With  grass-green  sods  all  jewelled  o'er, 

Bordered  with  sweetest  flowers  along, 
What  this,  and  nothing  more  ? 

If  some  fond  soul,  by  friendship  moved, 
Should  seek  the  spot  thus  chosen  here, 

And  yearn  to  show  how  much  he  loved, 
Just  let  him  drop  a  tear. 

If  still  'tis  urged  to  mark  the  spot 
By  marble,  stone,  or  cenotaph, 

Then  be  it  humble  as  his  lot, 
And  this  the  epitaph  : 
16 


242  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

"  He  lived,  he  loved,  he  wrought,  he  died, 
Inspired  and  urged  by  Christian  rule ; 

To  mend  the  world  in  faith  he  tried, 
And  loved  the  Sunday  school." 


243 


THE   VISION  OF   BEAUTY. 


OH,  vision  of  beauty,  of  love,  and  of  peace, 
When  battle  and  strife  shall  everywhere  cease  ! 
Oh,  vision  of  beauty,  when  good-will  to  all 
Shall  rule  in  the   breasts   of  the  great   and   the 

small ! 

Oh,  vision  of  beauty,  when  tortures  and  woe 
Shall  be  heard  of  no  more  in  these  valleys  below  ! 
Oh,  vision  of  beauty,  when  Hope  proves  not  vain, 
That  the   wise   and   the    good    shall    everywhere 

reign  ! 

Oh,  vision  of  beauty,  when  the  light  of  this  morn 
In  the  spirit  of  Christ  again  shall  be  born  ! 
When  the  old  things  of  evil  shall  totter  and  fall, 
And  the  Genius  of  Good  for  deliverance  shall  call ; 
When   parties  and  sects  shall  be  banished  from 

hence, 
And  the  triumph  begin  of  good  common  sense ; 


244  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

The  young  shall  be  thoughtful,  and  the  old  ones 

be  gay, 
And  both  shall  be  happy  as  this  bright  Christmas 

day; 
When   girls  shall  dress  simple,   and  mothers  be 

wise, 
And,  not  with  their  elbows,  but  see  with  their 

eyes  ; 
When  regard  for  the  feelings  shall  be  studied  as 

well 

As  to  write  or  to  cipher,  to  read  or  to  spell ; 
When  the  right  and  the  true  shall  be  quietly  done 
As  now  the  moon  rises,  as  now  sets  the  sun  ; 
When  worship  shall  rise  to  the  Father  above, 
And  better  than  earthly  this  Father  shall  love  ! 
Oh,  vision  of  beauty !  in  radiance  so  bright, 
Oh,  wake  in  thy  splendor  on  our  now  aching  sight ! 


245 


LINES 

Written  in  the  Album  of  H.  B.,  fuU  of  Beautiful  Engraving 

WHAT  pretty  pictures  grace  these  pages  ! 

How  they  please  both  I  and  you ! 
How  charm  the  eyes  of  all  the  ages,  — 

Youngest  and  the  oldest  too. 

Why  please  they  thus  the  gentle  maiden  ? 

Why  the  white-haired,  wrinkled  man  ? 
Because  with  beauty  they  are  laden  : 

Come,  resist  it  ye  who  can  ! 

Perfection's  germ  is  wrapped  in  beauty, 
And  for  this  we  all  should  seek ; 

Go,  little  Helen  !  do  your  duty, 
Both  of  these  you  thus  bespeak. 


246  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

Such  be  the  aim  of  all  your  being,  — 
Seek  the  perfect  day  by  day ; 

Then  shall  beauty  worth  the  seeing 

Gild  your  steps  on  heaven's  bright  way. 


TRANSLATIONS  FROM  THE  FRENCH. 


TRANSLATIONS  FROM  THE  FRENCH. 


DIALOGUE  BETWEEN  A  POOR  POET  AND  A 
FRIEND. 

P.  —  "  THEY  have  stolen  from  me  "  — 
F.  —  "  How  I  pity  thy  grief !  " 
P.  —  w  All  my  manuscript  lines." 
F.  —  "  How  I  pity  the  thief !  " 

LE  BRUN. 


ON     CHLOE. 

POET  and  belle,  she  has  two  little  whims,  — 

She    makes    her   own  face,   but  don't  make  her 

hymns. 

LE  BRUN. 


250  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 


OUR   NED. 

IN  prose,  in  verse,  does  Ned  compose  ; 

Yet  somehow  Ned  the  rules  reverse  ; 
For  in  his  verse  there's  too  much  prose, 

And  too  much  prose  in  all  his  verse. 

LE  BKDN. 


JEU  D'ESPRIT. 


WHEN  the  weather  is  bright  and  fair, 
Be  sure  to  take  thy  cloak  to  wear ; 
For  when  the  storm  is  fierce  and  set, 
A  fool  would  not  his  cloak  forget. 


THE   UNGALLANT  LAWYER. 

The  wife  of  a  French  lawyer,  complaining  of  her  over-studious  husband. 
I,  "  I  wish  I  might  become  a  book,"  and  this  was  his  ungallant  reply  :  — 

AN  almanac,  and  I'll  agree, 

And  prove  myself  a  cunning  Seer ; 

For  this,  my  gain,  as  you  may  see, 

They  change  that  book  once  every  year. 


TRANSLATIONS  FROM  THE  FRENCH.    251 


EPITAPH 

For  an  Inebriate  who  requested  that  his  Coffin  might  be  a  Cask  from 
which  he  hud  drunk  until  it  was  empty. 

FORESEEING  well  his  certain  doom, 
With  his  own  hands  he  dug  this  tomb. 


EPITAPH 

Taken  from  a  tabltt  in  a  Cemetery  a  few  miles  from  Inkerman, 
in  the  Crimea. 

"  Non,  tu  n'a  pas  quitte  mes  yeux." 

No,  no  !  not  passed  beyond  my  sight ; 

For,  when  my  lone»and  saddened  eyes 
Here  cease  to  catch  the  vision  bright, 

Straightway  I  see  thee  in  the  skies. 


TO   THE   BATHERS  AT   THE   HOT-SPRINGS, 
GASTEIN,  AUSTRIA. 

(See  Atlantic,  January,  1871.) 
"  Savez-Tou*  quel  est  £  Gastein,"  etc. 

KNOW  you  what  there  is  at  Gastein, 
Where  you  bathe  so  hopeful,  in  sooth  ? 

Kejoice,  dearest  friends,  and  be  certain 
'Tis  the  life-giving  fountain  of  youth. 


252  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

Cast  into  its  waters  a  flower 

Half  faded  in  beauty  and  bloom  ; 

Soon  the  rose,  by  its  magical  power, 

Will  its  freshness  and  fragrance  resume. 

Since  we  know,  then,  such  treasures  are  there, 

Prolonging  existence  in  truth  ; 
,     Friends,  to  bathe  let  us  often  repair 

To  this  life-giving  fountain  of  youth. 


MADRIGAL. 

'MiD  music  of  waters,  the  forest  air  breathing, 
Reposing  on  flowers,  what  a  rich  bower  of  bliss  ! 

Empire  couldn't  tempt  me  the  spot  to  be  leaving  ; 
But  leave  it  I  would,  Iris,  I  would  for  a  kiss  ! 
CHARLEVAL,  A  POET  OF  1013. 


THE   GOOD   AULD   WIFE. 

"  La  Bonne  Vieille,"  from  "  Chansons  de  De  Beranger.' 

OLD  must  you  grow,  my  mistress  fair. 
Yes,  dear ;  and  I  shall  cease  to  be  : 


TRANSLATIONS  FROM  THE  FRENCH.    253 

Time  flies  so  fast  that  I  despair 

To  count  the  moments  as  they  flee. 

Live  thou,  but  take  me  still  for  guide, 

When  age  and  pain  shall  goad  like  thongs ; 

And,  good  auld  wife,  your  hearth  beside, 
Repeat  again  your  lover's  songs. 

When  youthful  eyes  through  wrinkles  peer 

To  find  the  charms  that  me  inspired, 
And  for  reply  lend  eager  ear, 

And  ask  of  him  so  much  admired ; 
Then  paint  my  love  with  power  and  pride, 

With  all  the  glow  to  it  belongs ;   ' 
And,  good  auld  wife,  your  hearth  beside, 

Repeat  again  your  lover's  songs. 

They'll  ask  you,  Was  he  good  and  kind  ? 

And  you'll  reply,  I  loved  him  ever ; 
Could  you  in  him  no  evil  find  ? 

Then  proudly  say  ye,  Never,  never  ! 
But,  lute  in  hand,  swayed  love's  full  tide, 

And  soothed  to  peace  our  earth-felt  wrongs ; 
And,  good  auld  wife,  your  hearth  beside, 

Repeat  again  your  lover's  songs. 


254  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

And  you  I  taught  for  France  to  weep, 

Say  to  the  new-born,  knightly  band, 
I've  sung  their  hope  and  fame  to  keep, 

And  comfort  my  unhappy  land  ; 
Recall  to  them  the  whirlwind  wide 

That  smote  their  laurel-harvests  strong  ; 
And,  dear  one,  at  your  hearth  beside, 

Repeat  again  your  lover's  songs. 

And,  dai'ling,  when  my  worthless  fame 

Shall  charm  the  griefs  of  waning  hours, 
And  your  weak  hand  the  task  shall  claim 

To  deck  my  shrine  with  Christmas  flowers, 
Then  raise  your  eyes  where  we  shall  bide, 

In  worlds  unseen  with  angel  throngs ; 
And,  good  auld  wife,  your  hearth  beside, 

Repeat  once  more  your  lover's  songs. 


FRENCH  MOTTO. 

In  France,  in  ancient  days,  the  following  motto  was  found  placed 
garden  fountain.    It  was  on  a  medallion,  and  a  Naiad  speaks. 

TOUJOURS  vive,  abundante  et  pure, 
Un  doux  penchant  regie  mon  cours ; 


TRANSLATIONS  FROM  THE  FRENCH.    255 

Heureux  1'ami  de  la  nature, 
Qui  soit  ansi  couler  ses  jours. 

Translation. 
Forever  fresh,  abundant,  clear, 

A  calm  descent  my  movements  sway ; 
So,  friend  of  nature,  have  no  fear, 

Whose  days  thus  gently  glide  away. 

In  friendly  competition,  C.  F.  B.  sent  me  the  following :  — 
Full,  fresh,  and  clear  my  waters  blue, 

Declining  gently,  ever  flow  ; 
Happy  the  friend  of  nature  who 

Sees  his  brief  moments  gliding  so. 


THE     ROSE. 

There  are  some  lines  on  the  rose  by  another  ancient  French  poet,  of  whom 
and  of  which  Madame  Genlis  says,  a  "  mauvais  poet  a  fait  les  vers  suivant, 
dont  Fidee  a  quelque  chose  de  frappant." 

SWEET  Rose  !  to  every  human  eye 
Thy  tints  how  soft,  yet  brilliant  too  ! 

Soon  thou  must  die  !  how  soon  !  and  I 
Perhaps  far  sooner  may  than  you. 


256  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

The  thought  of  death,  brought  thus  so  nigh, 
Startles  my  soul  and  all  within  it ; 

The  Rose  may  have  a  day  to  die, 
But  I,  perhaps,  but  one  short  minute. 


GARDEN-  INSCRIPTION. 

At  Moulin  Joli,  France,  is  the  famous  garden  of  M.  Watelet,  where  th 
ire  many  inscriptions.     This  is  one. 

FEW  be  thy  friends,  thine  acres  also  few ; 

Active  in  good,  thy  projects  fewer  yet : 
Then  shall  thy  days  be  blest,  or  leave  to  you 

A  life  without  remorse  or  vain  regret. 


THE   VIOLET   TO   A   LADY. 
From  the  French  of  M.  Jean  Desmarets,  A.D.  1G60. 

FROM  all  ambition  free  I  hide  me  in  the  grass ; 
My  color  modest  is,  my  dwelling-place  is  low ; 
But  could  my  hope  be  gained  one  day  to  grace 

your  brow, 

Though  humblest  of  the  flowers,  all  others  should 
surpass. 


TRANSLATIONS    FROM    THE    FRENCH.          257 


FRANKLIN'S  MONUMENT. 

The  Latin  inscription   on  the  Statue  of  Franklin,  front  of   City  Hall, 
Boston,  was  composed  by  Turgo. 

ERIPUIT  coelo  fulmen,  sceptrumque  tyraimis. 


French  Translations. 
I. 

Get  homme  que  tu  vois,  sublime  en  tons  les  temps, 
Derobe  aux  dieux  la  foudre  et  le  sceptre  aux  tyrans. 

II. 

Tu  vois  le  sage  courageux 
Dont  I'heureux  et  male  ge*nie 

Arracha  le  tonnerre  aux  dieux, 
Et  sceptre  a  la  tyrannic. 

English  Translation.  \ 

He  snatched  the  bolt  from  heaven's  avenging  hand, 
Disarmed  and  drove  the  tyrant  from  the  land. 

ELPHINSTONE. 
17 


258  AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

Original. 

Behold  the  Sage,  brave,  calm,  and  wise, 
To  whom  this  votive  wreath  we  bring ! 

He  snatched  the  thunder  from  the  skies, 
The  sceptre  from  a  tyrant  king. 


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